The One That Got Away
by zashikabuta06
Summary: How do the lives of the original New Directions intersect in New York City? Inspiration derived from Katy Perry's 'The One That Got Away." Set in the future, 2020s. The "kids" are in their mid 30s. Main characters: Quinn, Santana, Brittany, and Rachel I like to call it Faberrittana.
1. Chapter 1

**The One That Got Away**

Katy Perry

Summer after high school when we first met

We make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

And on my 18th birthday we got matching tattoos

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Never plan that one day I'd be losing you

In another life, I would be your girl

We keep all our promises, be us against the world

In other life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

I was June and you were my Johnny Cash

Never one, without the other, we made a pact

Sometimes when I miss you, I put those records on, whoa

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

They saw you downtown singing the blues

It's time to face the music, I'm longer your muse

In another life, I would be your girl

We keep all our promises, be us against the world

In another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

The one, the one, the one

The one that got away

All this money can't buy me a time machine, no

Can't replace you with a million rings, no

I should've told you what you meant to me, whoa

'Cause now I pay the price

In another life, I would be your girl

We keep all our promises, be us against the world

And in another life, I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

The one, the one, the one, the one

And in another life I would make you stay

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away

The one that got away

**A/N:** Inspiration derived from Katy Perry's 'The One That Got Away." Set in the future, 2020s. The "kids" are in their early to mid 30s.

**Main Characters:** Brittany, Quinn, Rachel, Santana

**Supporting Characters:** Arty, Beth, Blaine, Kurt, Kitty, Jake, Marley, Mercedes, Mike, Sam, Tina, Puck, Sugar, Shelby

**Ancillary Characters**: Burt, Emma, Maribel & Antonio Lopez, Coach Sue, Susan Pierce

**Ships/OTPs:** Quinntana, Pierceberry, Tike, Samcedes, Klaine, Marty, Jakitty

**BrOTPs:**Brittana, Faberry, Santina, Barty, Sancedes; Pucktana, Santaley (Santana/Marley); Brittany/Mike; Faberryevans

**Offspring: **

Quinntana: Harper Rachel & Holden Britt, 10 mo

Pierceberry: Barbra Santana, 16 y/o; Edwin Noah, 13 y/o; Tristan Quincy, 16 mo

Tike: Kathryn, 3y/o

Marty: Arty Evan, 2 y/o

Samcedes: Joey, Macey, & Zoey, 2 y/o

Klaine: Brynn, 13 y/o & Burt 10 y/o

Puck: Beth, 16 y/o

Jakitty: JJ, 15 y/o

**Setting:** NYC, Bergen County, New Jersey, New Haven, Connecticut; New England

**Certainties:** Legalization of Gay Marriage; Full Woman's Reproductive Rights; Don't Ask, Don't Tell repealed; all of the kids left Ohio right after graduating from McKinley and moved to NYC. Adults, except for Shelby and Emma, are still in Lima, Ohio.

**Overview:** How do the lives of the original New Directions intersect in New York City?

**Rating**: T advancing to M

**Disclaimer:** I am not affiliated with GLEE; this is my pure imagination.


	2. Chapter 2

Part One: The Year Everything Changed

Chapter One- Winter

I turn the key and walk into the mud room. I disrobe all of the garments that kept me warm for the 3 block walk from the A train stop to our home in Greenwich Village. I can hear the coos of our babies in the kitchen as the landline rings out.

"Babe, could you get that? I am in the middle of feeding them."

I walk into the kitchen and greet my beautiful wife with a kiss full on the lips. I caught Quinnie of guard. I could tell because of the blush that was creeping across the apples of her alabaster cheeks. For just a moment, we were us again: Santana and Quinn, before we became mommies to Harper and Holden. They started laughing and broke our happy bubble. The phone went to the answering machine.

"Hey Q, are we still on for the play date tomorrow? Or is Harper still sniffling? Cause if not, I could make my rehearsal for Funny Girl."

I run the pick up the phone-

"Rach, hey. Sorry. It's feeding time at the zoo and the twins are wearing more of their food then eating it."

"No worries, San. Just got home?"

"Yup. Busy day at the hospital. 5 back-to-back deliveries. I think HR should be fine. How are you? Britts? The kids?"

"All good. Britt is at the studio with Mike, teaching an advanced hip-hop class. Barby is sitting in front of me working on her college applications. Noah is out with Brynn. I am trying to feed Tristan, but I think he, too, is wearing more food than eating it. And the last one keeps kicking me like no tomorrow."

Rachel was 33 weeks pregnant with the last of the Berry-Pierce brood. My goddaughter, Barbra Santana was 17 years old, Edwin Noah was 14, Quinn's godson, Tristan Quincy, was 16 months old. Rachel and Brittany were the godparents to our twins, Harper Rachel and Holden Britt were 10 months old yesterday. For Britt and Rachel, it was Britt who was pregnant with Rachel's egg and Rachel's first cousin, Ross' sperm. The results were Barby and Eddy. It was because when they wanted to start a family, Rachel's career on Broadway was just taking off. Britt had just finished Beyonce's final world tour and needed a break from dancing and touring. Rachel always wanted to carry their child, so when she ended the revival of RENT on Broadway last December, she took a year off to get pregnant. She got pregnant quickly and 10 months later, Tristan was born. They wanted them close in age, so I gave her the green light to commence when the baby was 3 months old. She got pregnant again when TQ was 6 months old.

"So, Noah and Brynn, huh?" I tease her.

I can hear her sigh. "I don't know, honestly, San. But they have been 'hanging out' more often. I guess if she is his first girlfriend, I am glad it is Kurt and Blaine's daughter."

"God, I can still remember the day I delivered him. Now, he is dating girls. Where does the time go, Rach?:

"You're telling me! Our Barby is getting ready to leave the nest."

"Speaking of her, can I talk to B, Rachel?"

I can hear Rachel ask her daughter if she talk to her godmother, then hand the phone over.

"Hey Mama S. What's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know that I talked to Auntie Tina over at Julliard. She along with the admissions committee watched your portfolio yesterday. She said it is obvious you are the spawn of Brittany. She also told me that your attendance of Julliard's Pre-College program since you were 8 years old only strengthens your application. I know you are still weighing your options. I can also talk to Uncle Arty, over at my alma mater, Columbia, if you want. Or you can take time off to go to auditions. You know that we will all support whatever decision you make, Barby."

"Thanks so much! I have decided which colleges to apply for: Julliard, NYADA, and USC for Dance; Columbia, NYU, and Stanford for Art History and Pre-med. I think Mom and I will be going to California to see SC and Stanford before Mama delivers the baby. You'll still take me on a tour of Columbia, right?"

"Of course, anak (Child in Filipino; my dad is 1/2 Filipino and 1/2 Puerto Rican). I can't believe my baby girl is applying for college."

"Oh jeez, please don't get all misty eyed, now, Mama."

"Well, my dear, you were the first infant, since your Auntie Beth, that we all saw. It was love at first sight for not only your Moms, but for your Auntie Quinn and I. We all love you so much, you know that. Me, I love you as if you were my mine; you are my goddaughter after all."

"I know, I get it, Ninang (godmother in Filipino. Just trying to lighten the move. Can you still proof my essays?"

"Sure, B, just e-mail them to me and I'll have them to you by the end of the week."

"Thanks so much Mama S. I think Ma still wants to talk. I love you."

"Love you to, honey. Bye."

I can here Rachel say, "NYADA!" as she gets the phone from her oldest.

"Rach, don't forget your ultrasound appointment on Monday. I'll see you at 1000."

"How could I ever forget? We all love looking at the baby, especially because you have one of those 3-D ultrasound machines."

"Baby, I could use a hand here..."

"Gotta go, Mom duty calls."

"I hear you. We will be over there at 10 am. Will you be home?"

"I am supposed to working on my research paper from home, but you know that I can paged at a moment's notice. You think these babies would have some consideration for their hard-working doctor, but no," I joke. "K, Rach. See you in the morning. I'll call Britts later tonight."

"Bye, Santana."

It is 2300 by the time my wife and I get ready for bed. After the mashed pea and carrot debacle, we bathed HB & HR to got them ready for bed. They were growing so fast. Holden was a master crawler and was beginning to take steps if you were holding his hands up. Harper wasn't quite where her brother was at, since she was almost a month younger than him.

For Harper and Holden, we did something unique. We were both pregnant at the same. So, they are siblings who happen to born within three weeks of each other. I carried Q's egg and she carried mine. Since we were both only children with no male cousins, we decided to ask Sam if he would be the donor. It could have been awkward, since we both dated him in high school. However, Sam is a stand-up guy and he understood that us dating him was our way to hide our sexuality; we never meant to hurt him. We asked him and Mercedes if he would consider it. They immediately both said, "YES!" by the end of dinner. In fact, it was the birth of the twins that made them move to the City. They wanted the triplets to be surrounded by their best friends' babies.

They were the last ones of New Directions to finally move to NYC from Los Angeles. Mercedes was offered the anchor position at Good Morning America. Sam, in the meantime, was loving his role as Mr. Mom, while trying to get seed money for his newest concept bar. He was a successful restauranteur in L.A. Puck moved out here last year, getting transferred by his job as a consultant for pools and hot tubs to high-profile clients in the Hamptons and the tri-state area. I guess being a pool boy during high school worked out for him.

Tina attended Juilliard for Piano after McKinley and was now the Associate Director of Admissions. Mike joined her after 2 years on the road with Alvin Ailey. He was now co-owner of The New Directions Dance Studio with Brittany. Arty attended Columbia and made researching spinal cord regeneration his life's work. He was among the top in his field and he was getting results. Arty was now able to stand and walk short distances with the help of a walker. Marley followed her dream to come to NYC and attended NYADA for Voice. She moved in with Arty, as a roommate, after Sugar moved out. For a long time, they were just friends. However, you cannot escape love's arrow and they were married 2 years later. Sugar was one of those people you could never really tie down. She inherited the family business, cleaned it up, and created Sugar's Candy Bar, which now had franchises all over America, England, and Japan. After her and Arty broke up, she dated on and off.

Jake and Kitty also moved to the City after graduating from McKinley. Turns out that Kitty really did idolize Quinn; she got pregnant in her Sophomore year too. Jake stepped up and they decided to keep the baby. Jacob, Jr. JJ was born in the summer before their Junior year. She was determined to continue with her plans for college. Her and Jake were both accepted at NYADA, along with Marley. They were able to secure family housing for all four years. When JJ graduated from kindergarten, his mom and dad graduated from college.

Rachel and Brittany were the first ones to have kids. Kurt and Blaine were next. There was a long lull untill the rest of us had kids. But then, came Mike and Tina's daughter, Kathyrn Emma, who was born a couple of months before Mercedes and Sam's triplets. Marley and Arty tried to have kids, but the accident left Arty infertile. Sam ended up being a sperm donor to them as well. Crazy to think that Sam was the father of 8 kids! Q and I told them how amazing Sam and Mercedes were to our twins. Sam would always just be Uncle Sam to them, just like Uncle Mike and Uncle Arty. He would be there for them if they ever needed a guy in their life but he was not looking to parent them, as he already had the triplets. So, Harper and Holden had a half-brother, Arty Evan, who just turned 2 and Marley was pregnant with a girl. Her and Rachel were due around the same time. They were all going to be over our home tomorrow for a play date for all the babies.

I was the first one in bed. I was beyond exhausted and I was falling asleep as soon as my head hit the hay. Felt the bed dip sometime later.

"Baby, are you sleeping?"

"Hmmm, almost hon. Why?"

Quinn puts her hand on my hip and pulls me into a deep, searing kiss. I opened my eyes and saw that she was wearing my favorite thing to bed, which was absolutely nothing at all.

"You can't kiss me like that, get me all hot and bothered, and leave me hanging, Doctor Lopez. I think you need to be taught a lesson," my wife says in her bedroom voice.

I kiss her back, with more passion and urgency. If there is any thing we have learned by having twins, we have to take advantage of every moment of alone time. I couldn't remember the last time we had made love; all I know is that it had been too long. She slips her tongue into my willing mouth and starts a dance with mine, as I shift to place my leg between hers, my hand on her left breast. She moans at the contact.

"Ummm, baby, yes. I want you so bad, San."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: While this story is originally inspired by Katy Perry's version of her hit song, I think that Corey Gray's acoustic version has the tone and feel that I aiming for. I encourage you to look it up on Spotify or YouTube. This next chapter is sexy times for Quinn and Santana. It is graphic but with purpose. I don't write or include these parts of the story for gratuitous purposes. It is to help you get into the psyche of Santana and the relationship between her and her wife, Quinn.

This is completely different for me, as I usually write Brittana as a couple, along with Faberry. I know that there are plenty of Quinntana and maybe even some Pierceberry shippers out there. It is an adjustment for me since Brittana is my OTP. However, I wanted to put a different spin on them in a way that I haven't come across yet. I hope that you are getting into the story, as much I as I am. I have not abandoned my other fics, "Addicted" or "Between the Lines." They are both on hiatus; I tend to write in bursts, when inspiration strikes. Right now, I have so many ideas for this story.

To address the concern of "Guest," I am sorry that you are disappointed and feel that I misled you by labeling this as Brittana. I know, in my mind, where this story is heading. Right now, it may seem as strictly and separately Quinntana and Pierceberry. If you are willing to be patient, you will see the dynamic between Santana and Brittany grow, as the story progresses. Thanks for commenting and for reading. I am not sure if you will even bother to continue reading, but I hope that you will.

Without further ado, I give you the next chapter. Rated M for a reason.

**Chapter 2**

I know what she wants when she says that. I take my hand off of her left breast and go down the valley of her breasts, to her tummy, down to her core.

"Fuck, babe, you are so wet."

When we get this turned on this fast, I know that our orgasms are going to be mind-blowing. I trail my fingers through her slit. It never ceases to amaze me: how much I love her and how I am the one who does this to her. I ride her thigh, to show her that I am just as wet as she is. Quinn opens her eyes, as she feels my desire spreading over her slender thigh.

"So are are you, S."

She pulls me back into a French kiss and I plunge my finger into her cave. She intakes a sharp breath. Ever since she delivered Holden, she has worried that she wouldn't be as sensitive. I always told her how tight was, how her walls would envelop my fingers. She worked on strengthening her muscles by doing Kegel exercises. Honestly, I could say she was almost back to were she was pre-pregnancy. Quinn flips us over, so that she is hovering over me. We both take amount to adjust to our new position.

I am usually the top, but I love it when Quinn takes control. I think that she likes me taking to lead because it allows her the freedom to let go. Q is a perfectionist and she needs to control each part of her life, to make sure it goes according to her plan. In here, our bedroom and in our bed, she is free from all of the constraints and demands she places upon herself. I am the only one that gets to see this Quinn. And, lord, how I love this Quinn. On the rare occasions that she takes the reins and steers our lovemaking, I just take pleasure in watching her direction.

Seeing her on top of me, her beauty always takes my breath away. Quinn was always one of those girls that was a natural beauty. In high school, girls loved to hate her, because she was so pretty. She could wrap grown men around her finger and she had all the boys wishing she would glance in their direction. Queen Bee Quinn, as she was known, was a heartbreaker. She had her fair share of the most popular boys at McKinley: Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman, and Sam Evans. What nobody knew back then was that she played up her sexual persona to hide her insecurities and the feelings she couldn't understand. She went thru the revolving boyfriends in the hopes that one of them would fit. One of them would make her change. One of them would make her stop thinking of Rachel Berry. She tormented Rachel all through middle and high school because she needed to protect herself. Q didn't know any other way to hide how she felt about her. If the whole school knew she hated and despised "that hobbitt," then no one would suspect that she actually loved her. I always wondered why she had such disgust for Berry. I mean, she wasn't my type. At the time, my only type was Brittany. It was over one of the Unholy Trinity sleepovers, after we got Q wasted on vodka mixed with Hawaiian Punch during our Senior year, that she finally cracked and told Britts and I the truth. B said she always knew. I told her I was having suspicions. We promised to keep her secret but encouraged her to stop torturing the poor girl. It was kind of brilliant, her logic. Not a soul would have thought that she was into girls, let alone the Diva known as Rachel Barbra Berry. It wasn't until Quinn left Lima for Yale that she was able to embrace who she was.

Q begins to move up and down on my lone finger, submerging the digit as far into her as it will go. I never felt more connected to my wife. Being inside of her was one of those moments I wished could last forever. This was when I felt the most alive; our bodies became one sweet love.

"More, baby, more...fill me up..."

I comply with her request, adding my middle finger inside of her. I can feel the shake of her walls. I know that she is getting close. As she moves faster and faster, she reaches down and twists my nipples. There really is a fine line between pleasure and pain and I always enjoyed a little pain.

"Fuck, Q. I need you too."

She take her fingertip and finds my erect bud jutting out at the top of my slit. She begins to caress it gently, rubbing it as if she was dusting the most delicate crystal.

When you have been together as long as Quinn and I have, there is no map necessary. We already know all of the nooks and crannies. I know that the scar above her right knee was when she fell learning how to ride a bike. She loves it when I kiss the inner aspect of her elbows, a particularly sensitive spot. Just as she knows how I like to be touch, especially in my most private places.

"S, you are so hard, babe. You like this?

I can only moan in loud agreement. I was so close too. As she fingers my clit, I insert a third finger inside of my wife. She loves feeling so much of me inside of her. She grunts and quickens her rhythm, her breasts bouncing up and down. The sight of that alone could get me off. I curl my fingers inside of her and move them in a come hither motion, hitting her spot.

"Uggh, San. Yes, baby. Just...like...that...fuck."

I love hearing her when we make love. She was always one to be vocal in the bedroom. She never, ever curses outside of these four walls. When she curses, it turns me so on. We continue this synchronized dance for what seems like forever, but I am sure in reality, it is barely a couple of minutes. I want my wife to find release first. I do the thing I know will undo her- I twist my wrist so that she will get the full length of my hand inside of her. I thrust so deep inside of her, as she starts to cry out. I can feel her walls tighten more and more around my hand. I hit her spot one more time as waves of pleasure pulsate from deep within her cave. Her orgasm is so powerful that her cum is dripping down my arm. I continue to move slowly inside of her, wanting her to get every last wave. She stills on top of me, spent and amazed at how hard she came.

"Baby...that was...ohhh, shit."

Before she can even finish her sentence, another orgasm takes over her body. This aftershock matched the intensity of the first one and caught us both completely off guard.

"Oh my god, Santana. Fuck, " she screams, before placing her hand on my wrist, to stop my ministrations.

After a couple of moments, she catches her breath and delicately removes herself from my fingers, quaking at the motion. She sidles up next to me, in the crook of my arm. Quinn knows how much I love this, as I take my fingers, trace them around her lips, and kiss her tenderly. I cannot remember the last time Q had come twice in rapid succession.

Basking in the afterglow of lovemaking, I finally speak.

"Quinn, baby, are you okay?"

"More than okay, San. I feel like I am floating."

"Do you know how much I love you, Quinn? I mean, really?"

"I love you just as much, Santana. Even more."

I kiss her hair and can feel myself floating away with her. We laid like that for awhile, Q coming down from high and me, just enjoying this quiet time with my wife. She begins to play with my left breast, which has always been more sensitive. She reaches down and cups my sex, feeling the heat emanating from my center. God, I wanted her so bad. But, in all honestly, I would have been fine. When I was younger, I would have wanted the favor returned. Maybe the years had softened me. I think that it was more that making love to my wife was just as satisfying.

Knowing that she loved me that much, to let herself go, wholly and completely, was a notion that I still trying to believe, even after 10 years and 2 kids later. It is in these moments that I fall even deeper in love with Quinn, just when I think it isn't even possible. I can remember standing at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, watching Quinn walk towards me, thinking that couldn't love her anymore. But, when she gave birth to our son, I knew that I had reached a new level of loving her. Seeing her be a mom to Holden and Harper just intensified it. Sex was always one of the ways I expressed my love. When I could't say the right words, I knew that my physical actions could speak for me. I hope that Quinn knew just how much I loved her, in that moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

I am so close already, I know that it won't take much to find release. Q knows it too. I look at her, with so much want and lust. She just gives me a wink and travels down my body.

"I want to taste my wife," she says, as her trails her slippery tongue down from my left nipple to my taut abdomen. Q spreads my legs wide and teases me, licking my right hipbone, kissing the junction of my pelvis and thigh. She blows a puff of hot air on my cave, causing my hips to buck up.

"Fuck, Quinn, don't be a tease. I want you so bad."

"Ohhh, really? You want me so bad, Santana? Then show me."

I take her head and push it into my sex. I never was one to mess around. I can feel her lips on my intimate lips, savoring the moment, before she kisses me.

"Q,, shit. Baby, come on."

She takes her tongue and lashes at my clit, before taking it in her mouth and sucking on it. My baby knows that it one of my favorite things that she does so well. As she sucks, she slowly enters me with two fingers. Q knows that I can take it, much more in fact, as she stretches me wide. She wants to slow it down, to enjoy making love to me. I just want release. I buck my hips even higher, to encourage her to go deeper. As much as I love being inside of Quinn, she equally loves being inside of me. I guess that is the most intimate way we can physically be connected to each other. She begins the rhythm, slow and steady, as I coordinate my movements to her pace.

"Fuck baby, I am so close. Faster...ugg, faster,"

Q listens to my pleas, as she withdraws her fingers almost all the way out, before diving in again. I can feel the small trembles start and know that I will find my release soon. Just then she pulls completely out...

"Fuck, Quinn. What the hell? I am so fucking close..."

Before I can finish my breathy tirade, I get why she pulled her fingers out. She lifts my hips so that she can enter me with her deft tongue, kissing me in my most sacred of places. I swear, that is what making love to Quinn feels like. Going to church- the Church of Saint Quinn Lucy Fabray. She treats my body with such reverence and respect. As she moves within, I can only handle so much pleasure. Q beckons out my undoing, rolling and swirling inside of me. I can feel my entire self let go to her whims. She has taken me to a place I never thought imaginable, to my version of heaven.


	4. Chapter 4

_I apologize for the long hiatus, my life has been hectic with the holiday season and work. As a reward, I will be uploading chapters 3-6 over the course of the next couple of days, as I finishing proofing them. Thank you so much to all of you who read, followed, and even favorited this story. As always, constructive criticism is encouraged and greatly appreciated. I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday season. Here's to a New Year hopefully filled with any/some Brittana on Glee. At least if we don't get it there, we always have fanfiction, right? Suggested listening: From her debut album, Thankful, Kelly Clarkson's The Trouble With Love Is_

Chapter Three

"Didn't San say she was going to call me?" Brittany says as she turns down the comforter and slips in between the flannel sheets.

Rachel responds, "Yea, babe, but she must have gotten busy with the twins. You'll see her tomorrow, anyway, after your morning ballet class."

They were also turning in for bed. Rachel and Brittany had developed a comfortable routine in their lives. Barby was a senior at New York Academy for Performing Arts (NYAPA) and Noah, as Eddy now preferred to be called, was in his last year of middle school at Lycee Francais. Tristan was a little over a year old and had such an independent streak, like his mother. They were discussing Barby's college plans and her new boyfriend, the son of Jake and Kitty, JJ. He was a junior at NYAPA and they had grown up as best friends. We all started to see them acting a little more than friends over the summer. Barby finally told us about him over dinner. The third generation of New Directions were now dating. Brittany, always the big spoon, cuddles up to the side of her wife and nuzzles her neck, before falling fast asleep.

Rachel places her arm around her wife's arm, to hold her closer to her heart. She feels the baby kick again and smiles to herself. She couldn't wait to meet their son or daughter. Come spring, there would be another permanent reminder of their love. Rach couldn't believe the life she had. Professionally, she was a bonafide Broadway star, complete with a Tony award for her role as Maureen in the revival of Rent. It was a role that was originated by her mother, Shelby Cocoran, so it held even more significance. Personally, her and Brittany had just celebrated their 12 year wedding anniversary. They had made a home and a life for their three children. They were more in love today than the day they got married.

However, Rachel couldn't deny that, in the far recesses of her mind, it was there on the fringes, tugging at her. It always came to her in the stillness of night. Across town, Quinn was with her wife, Santana, snuggling and spooning her, just like she was doing with her wife. She always imagined that she would be doing this with Quinn. Just as she was sure that Brittany had imagined doing this with Santana. Maybe in some alternate universe, that it exactly how it was: Brittana & Faberry, not Quinntana & Pierceberry. There were flashes that Rachel had when she and Quinn were alone, playing with Tristan, Holden, and Harper. If she blinked, she would look around and see a home they had together. She would see the ring upon her finger and recognize it as Judy Fabray's engagement ring. She would look at Quinn's ring finger as see the ring she gave to Brittany. She could look up at the mantle as see their life in pictures, starting with their wedding photo. Santana and Brittany would be there too, but as their Maids of Honor, as the godmothers to their children. Rachel had to pinch herself back to reality, to bring her back to present day. She often wondered if Britt ever had those moments or if Quinn did, as well. Sometimes, she suspected that Santana did have them, when she would wistfully look at Brittany holding Harper, the daughter that San gave birth to. Rachel thought she recognized that look upon her face, Santana seeing a glimpse of the life that could have been.

It is kind of funny, considering out of all the people in New York City, how they all ended up with someone from Glee club. Maybe it was because being with them made us feel closer to home and grounded. Rach never really knew the answer to this one. What she did know was that Quinn was her first, true love. She thought it was Finn and she almost married him. With Lucy Quinn Fabray, it took her by complete surprise. She never imagined that someone like Q would ever or could ever be in love with someone like her. She didn't know just how long Quinn had loved her and it made her finally understand why she tortured her for so long.

After they had all left Lima for New York City and New Haven, she and Quinn had forged a new friendship. Rachel took advantage of the Metro North pass she had gotten from Quinn as a graduation present. They spent almost every weekend together. She witnessed Q blossom at Yale, just as Q saw Rachel become the star she knew she always would be. She was fearless when it came to singing; her voice was her gift that she unleashed upon the world. The thing that caught Rach off guard was Quinn. She never expected to develop feelings for her, especially after all the bullying. However, she couldn't deny that there was something that always drew her to Quinn. Maybe that was why she was so jealous of her when she was dating Finn. Maybe it wasn't that she wanted to be like Quinn; it was that, deep down, she wanted her. Things never really worked between her and Finn, no matter how many times they tried. After Rachel broke up with him her Freshman year, she swore off any relationships and focused on her education.

Quinn became her one exception. Rachel rationalized that they were just friends; there was nothing romantic between them. Most certainly, there was no way that she could possibly feel the same way. Rachel firmly held this belief, until one starry night, their junior year, Quinn stopped staring at the stars. Instead, she turned and stared at Rachel, at her lips, and kissed her. The world fell away and time stopped. They were together for the rest of their college years. Their love just blossomed into the most beautiful rose, each petal grown out of each and every moment they spent together. With Quinn, she could see their future stretched out before them. She never imagined that it would not come to fruition. She never thought that her future was with Brittany or that Quinn's future was with Santana. Rach always assumed that Britt and San would be together, too. Funny how things turned out, she thought, as she felt her wife stir in her arms, shaking her out of her musings.

Rachel turned to Brittany and kissed her with so much love, as if to prove to herself that this was where she belonged. She knew, in her heart of hearts that this was were she belonged. Quinn might have been her first love, but Brittany was her forever love. When she was heartbroken over Quinn, it was Brittany who helped piece her world back together. After all, she knew what it was like to have a broken heart. Santana broke hers all those years ago and she was able to survive without her. Slowly and surely, Rach was able to make it out of bed. She was able to shower and eat and do the things that were necessary to live. Brittany was there for her whenever she fell backward: seeing something that reminded her of Quinn would send her in a tailspin. Brittany moved in, initially, to help Rachel get through the turmoil; to take care of her. As the months went by, it didn't hurt so much. Rachel was able to begin going on auditions again. Brittany was getting ready to go on a world tour with Lady Gaga. They were still just friends, albeit much closer friends. They weren't that close at McKinley. Rachel never quite got the things that Brittany said while Britt was just barely tolerant of Rachel and her ego. It wasn't until Britt got a role as a featured dancer at one of NYADA's Spring Showcases during Rachel's sophomore year that got them reacquainted. With Rachel and Quinn hanging out and forging a new friendship, Rachel and Brittany forged one as well. Rachel's ego had subsided, once she was at NYADA and realized that she was at a school full of people just like her: they had immense talent and she was among a plethora of stars. The year that Brittany spent left behind made her more attuned to how people perceived her and she learned how to communicate in ways that didn't make people cock their heads and stare at her in amazement and confusion. Plus, she was already friends with Q and knew how she felt about Rach. She made it her mission to play matchmaker. I guess that was the ironic part of this whole thing. Britts was rooting for their relationship and she was also the one to comfort her when it all went awry. Rachel helped Brittany to finally let go of Santana. Sure, she was over her, even moved on to other boyfriends and girlfriends since that day in the choir room. Yet, there was always a part of her that still clung to Santana and what they had. In helping Rachel move forward from Quinn, it helped her to completely let go of Santana. It was in helping each other get over their first loves that opened up their hearts to each other. Neither of them planned it or expected it, but while Brittany was away and Rachel was alone in the apartment, she felt it.

Rachel didn't quite know what she was feeling. It always took her longer to figure out matters of the heart. All she knew was that home didn't feel like home with Britts gone. She began to count down the days until Britt would be home. They would video chat and e-mail, but Rachel never mentioned the burgeoning love she had for the dancer.

Brittany could feel that familiar pull growing in the pit of her stomach. It caught her off guard because the last person she felt this way about was San. It didn't scare her; she just never thought she would feel this way about Rachel. She didn't want to frighten her or push her, so she just waited. Brittany was never afraid of love; of giving it to another person. It was one of the best parts of her personality. She never understood why people were so afraid of showing how they felt or said how they feel. Britt always thought that feelings were just feelings; they held no judgements or constraints- they just were. How you perceived them or reacted to them was the scary part. "I love you" and "I hate you" came from the same place within a person. It was the words that had the power and the feelings that were the gift.

Rach smiled to herself as she remembered the night that changed their lives forever. She had gotten home early, knowing that Brit would be home, finally after 6 months away. Rachel filled the apartment with candles and daisies, which were Brittany's favorite flower. She had discovered that daisies symbolized gentleness, innocence, simplicity, loyal love, beauty, and patience, which were all attributes that Brittany possessed. She was always a hopeless romantic.

She needed to feel her wife come alive with her kiss, to feel her body next to hers, to feel her breasts touching hers. Rachel knew that she loved Brittany so much and she had to show her just how much. She had felt guilty for thinking about Quinn in their bed; for remembering a time so long ago that was in both of their pasts. She had to quell those thoughts so she just reacted to Brittany's body. She showered her with kisses until Brittany started to react to her lips. Britt was a masterful kisser, the things she could do with her lips set Rachel on fire.

Britt broke the kiss, cupping her wife's face, looking into her brown eyes, asking, "What was that for?"

Rachel thought for a moment before she answered, ""Britts, I love you so much. You know that right?"

"I love you, too Rach" she replied, a bit puzzled as to why her wife would ask her that. She continued, "But, I know you. There is something else on your mind."

Rachel just laughed, knowing that Brittany knew her too well, even surrounded by the cloak of darkness and the stillness of the night. Britt waited patiently for her wife to tell her the real reason behind the kiss. Just as she was about to speak, Tristan starting wailing from the baby monitor. Inwardly, Rachel was relieved because she was still trying to figure out what to tell her wife. Could she really tell her that she was just thinking of Quinn, after of these years? Could she ask her if she ever thought of Santana? And how could she explain that thinking of Quinn didn't mean that she was in love with her? She was saved by her crying son. She made a move to get out of bed when Britt put a hand on her arm.

"I'll go babe. You need to get some rest."

"Thanks, Britts. I love you so, so much."

Brittany just responded by kissing her again and wondered where all of this was coming from. Before she could process anything, Tristan cried out again. She broke off the kiss and got out of bed, tucking Rach in the process.

"Sweet dreams, wifey," she said as she left their bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

_A short chapter that sets up the next big chapter, a game changer. Suggested listening: From Glee:The Music Christmas Album, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, because the kids discuss their plans for the Holidays! Naya has a great solo verse in it. Happy reading!_

**Chapter 4**

At 1000, all of the girls and Sam were over. Mercedes would be joining us after her hosting duties were over at GMA. Britt-Britt and Mike would be over after their morning dance classes. Sam was the first to arrive, with Joey, Macey, and Zoey. Tina was next with Katy, who ran into Rachel and Tristan in the lobby. Marley came in with Arty on her hip.

We set all of the kids on the floor and gathered around the kitchen table to catch up.

"Did you ever think this we be our lives after McKinley?" Tina asks the group.

"Hold on, Cohen-Chang. I need to have at least 2 cups of coffee before deep, philosophical conversations commence, " I tell her, which results in laughter.

Internally, I was wondering the same thing more and more. Self-deprecating humor as a defense mechanism. Awesome. Ms. Pillsbury would be proud to hear me recognizing it; I guess years of therapy have helped. She and Mr. Schue never got married. I think it was because, as she recovered from her OCD, she saw that he was holding back. I was the one that actually encouraged her to move out here, were they were plenty of kids who could use a great guidance counselor. Thru Tina, she was able to secure a job as GC at Julliard. She even helped out with a glee club for inner city youth. Her and Mr. Schue remained close friends, but he was left in Lima, along with Coach Sylvester.

Lately, I was having more and more of those thoughts and musings, specifically this one: What if Brittany and I were still together? Would we be where we are now just with Britt-Britt as my wife and Quinn would be Rachel's wife? Would we still be best friends in the alternate life? Or would their be too much awkwardness to overcome? The fact that Britts was my first love and that Rachel was Quinn's first love. In our current scenario, we were all able to move past it all and I think it made us even closer best friends. There was never a question of trust; we all trusted each other. We had all moved on and all those feelings we had for out first loves were in the past. But is that really true? Do you really ever get over your first love?

I kept trying to push these thoughts aside. However, whenever I looked at my left forearm I saw the matching tattoos we both have (key on mine and a heart with a key opening on Brittany), I am reminded of us. In high school, I always imagined my life with Britt as my wife and mother of my children. Even though I was the one that broke-up with her, I held onto her and held out hope that we would get back together. All thru my undergraduate years at Columbia, I casually dated, nothing serious. It wasn't until I got accepted at Yale for medical school that Quinn and I got together. Rachel and Brittany didn't get together until Brittany had came back from her tour with Gaga. By then, years had passed since I was with Brittany and Quinn was with Rachel.

"Hey Santana!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry Marley."

"Look at Holden!"

Sure enough, my son was pulling himself him onto the edge of our coffee table. He stood there, to steady himself, before taking a couple of wobbly steps, then falling back on his bottom. Quinn and I rushed over to our baby boy and gushed over him. Harper must have felt left out because she crawled over to me. I picked her up and swung her around until she was laughing. I sat her in her high-chair while Quinn put Holden in his. We had 2 extra high chairs for the Arty and Tristan. I poured a couple of Cheerios on the table of the chairs and got their sippy cups filled with organic apple juice. They were happy, babbling to each other. It almost seemed like they were having a conversation. Katy, Arty, Joey, Macey, and Zoey were sitting patiently at the small toddler table we had set up and Sam was handing out quarters of PB&J and baby carrots. Quinn had started warming up the waffler and I went about making the 2nd pot of coffee.

There was a knock on the door and Mercedes entered the room. She was still in full TV make-up and dress. Her babies all got up and ran to their mommy. She gave a quick peck to Sam and wave to us, as she went to one of the bedrooms to change into more comfortable clothes.

"Can you believe that Christmas is in three weeks? Who is going home to Lima?" Sam asks everyone.

"Q and I are leaving on December 23rd. I am so happy to be off service for a month. I am exhausted."

"Mike and I are also leaving then. We are on the same flight, right Quinn?"

Quinn nods at Tina.

"Britts and I are grounded, Dr.'s orders," Rachel says as she looks at me.

"That's right Berry. No airplanes for you, especially so close to delivering."

"So, my dads are coming here for Christmas. Britts's mom and sister will be coming here for New Year's."

"Arty and I are also grounded. I think we will be going to Jersey, to meet up with his brother, cousins, and their families."

"Mercedes has to work until Christmas Eve, so we are flying out after she finishes GMA. We should make it back with plenty of time to spare before Midnight Mass."

Quinn says, "I know that Shelby, Puck, and Beth will be flying in on the 22nd."

Shelby Cocoran, Rachel's biological mother, adopted Beth. After a rocky start, and mostly because of Puck, Quinn was able to prove to Shelby that she deserved to be involved in Beth's life. While Beth still lived with her mom, as she got older, she spent more time with her parents. Puck and Shelby were together for a long time and were even engaged. They were on and off so many times that everyone had lost track. Beth was really hoping that they would get married; so did Quinn. She knew that Puck was a great guy and that he always wanted to give his daughter a mother and father, since his dad was largely absent from his and Jake's life. It was Shelby, who kept putting of the wedding. Rachel kept encouraging her mom to just "Take the plunge" but for some unknown reason, she kept postponing. They all knew that Puck was getting impatient, especially since he wanted to have more kids. Although Shelby couldn't get pregnant, they could have a surrogate carry the baby.

"Blaine and Kurt have to stay in NYC because of Blaine's play, so they will be celebrating Hanukkah and Christmas with us," I said.

"I think Kitty will be back from tour by Christmas. Jake told me that she will be meeting them in Lima, since her tour's last stop is in Chicago."

Marley said, "Wow, that's a lot of us. We should meet up with Mr. Schue."

"He's still hung up on Miss Pillsbury. He can't believe that she is now married and has three kids. I think he has this irrational hope that he can win her back," Sam says.

"Well, that's his own dumb ass fault. He treated her like she was broken glass and smothered her. I'm glad I convinced her to leave him and Lima." I reply.

Tina added, "She is really doing well at Julliard. I think she will be named the new head of Student Services. We should invite her to one of these brunches."

They all nod in agreement. Q starts adding the batter to the waffle iron and I start poring the freshly brewed coffee when everything comes to a halt-


	6. Chapter 6

_Suggested listening: Alex Goot & Kurt Schneider's version of The Fray's "How To Save A Life"_

Chapter 5

"SANTANA! GET IN HERE NOW" Mercedes screams.

I rush into the bathroom and see Rachel passed out next to the toilet. She is bleeding profusely.

"Ohhhh, fuck. I run over to her and check her over. I whisper to myself, "Placental abruption." I start barking out orders:

"Tina, call 911. Tell them we have a 29 week premie, mom with placental abruption."

"Q, call the hospital to let them know we are coming in with Rachel. Tell them that her blood type is B+. And to call in Dr. Novick."

"Sam, call Brittany now. And grab all the towels from the hall closet."

"Mercedes and Marley, can you watch the kids?"

They all stand there in shock, before moving onto the tasks. I assess Rach.

"Fuck." I can see that the baby is already crowning.

I start shaking Rachel. "Rachel, honey. I need you to wake up now, okay?" Come on."

She starts to come around. I can tell that she is in shock.

"Focus on me, Rach. I need you the push okay?"

"But...but...no... it's too early..."

"Yes, hon, you need to push NOW."

"Q, can you grab my medical bag by my bedside?"

She goes and gets it, opens it up, and places it next to me, before going behind Rachel, propping her up.

"What's happening? Quinn?" Rachel says, before looking at me in between her legs and seeing the blood on the bathroom floor.

"NO! This cannot be happening! San, make it stop!"

Quinn just whispers in Rachel's ear, soothing words, to try and calm her down amongst the chaos. She tells Rachel that she needs to listen to me. I can see by the look on her face that she is ready to comply with my directions.

"Tina, I need you in here." I knew that out of our group of friends, she would be the least squeamish. The last thing I needed was someone passing out at the sight of blood, creating another patient.

She comes in, takes a deep breath, before telling Rachel, "It's okay, Rach. You got the best OB in New York City. You'll be just fine." She says to convince herself; to convince all of us.

I knew that this situation was dire. From the amount of blood loss, I estimated that she had a Grade 2 abruption. I had to work quickly to get the baby out, before...

I wouldn't let myself think of that, I just focused on Rachel.

"Ok, Berry. With the next contraction, I will need you to push, okay? Tina get the bulb syringe, twine, and surgical scissors out of my bag, please. Then, I need you to hold Rachel leg like this, okay?"

Tina does as she is told, Quinn grabs a hold of Rachel's hand, doing Lamaze breathing with her.

"Okay, Santana, I feel one..."

"Rach, Push, okay...come on, the head is almost out."

She grunts and her final effort results in the baby's head out. "Shit," I say under my breath. Nuchal cord x2. I need to get this baby out now.

"Rachel, I need one more push okay and the baby should be out."

At this point, I can see that Rachel is drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Baby, wake her up. I need her to do this now, or..."

I look at my wife and she knows what I am insinuating: if I don't get the baby out now, he/she will die and Rachel could die too.

"Rachel, Rachel, come on. Wake up. Don't you want to meet your baby? San just needs you to push one more time."

Rachel starts mumbling incoherently but does as she is told, with the last push the baby is out.

"Why isn't my baby crying? Santana?"

That is the last thing I hear Rachel say, before she slips back to an unconscious state. I unwrap the cord around the baby's neck, tie twine around the cord, and cut the umbilical cord. I wrap the baby in a towel and start rubbing her off, in attempt to stimulate her. She looks so small yet she a perfectly formed human being, with ten fingers and ten toes.

"Come on, baby girl, breathe for me. Come on. Where the fuck are the paramedics?" I scream exasperated.

The baby is limp and not breathing. Rachel is passed out in about 1/2 of her blood volume. I don't know what to to. We are taught that the needs of the mother always trump the baby's. However, I know what Rachel would want.

"Tina, I need you to put on a pair of gloves. I need you to do this for me, because I need to help the baby. Take these towels and pack them in Rachel. We need to stop the bleeding."

I take the baby and immediately begin resuscitation. After clearing her airway, I give her breaths, covering her nose and mouth with my mouth, all the while saying a silent prayer. Quinn is beside herself, crying uncontrollable.

"Q,, baby, I need you." She comes over to me. "I need you to go into my bag, okay. And grab something that looks like a long skinny tube. Yup that's it. Okay, now, I need you to take over at CPR."

Quinn was certified in CPR, just in case it was ever needed and I wasn't around. I am sure she never imagined she would be performing rescue breathing on her best friend's daughter. She took over for me as I inserted an umbilical line. I draw up the correct dose of atropine, while encouraging Quinn. I push the medicine through the line as the EMTs enter the bathroom. I recognize Alex, one of the paramedics I am friends with.

"Hey, Doc Lopez. Whoa..."

I give them the bullet and ask them for the supplies to intubate the baby. It has been forever since I had to do this on a patient, let alone a premature infant. I close my eyes to calm myself. I open my eyes and remember the steps clearly. I insert the endotracheal tube. Mark, the other EMT, listens for breath sounds.

"You are in, Dr. Lopez."

As I secure the breathing tube, I implore to Alex, "Please, I need you to go to Rachel...please." I am worried that my choice to try and save the baby resulted in her losing her mother, before she even met her. My heart stops as I see Alex check for a pulse, while Mark places the leads on her, to pick up a rhythm. I see the QRS complex and hear the beep of the machine. Thank Jesus, she is still alive.

"Doc, pulse is weak, thready, but there."

"Get a line and push volume. We need to go to the hospital now."


	7. Chapter 7

_To address the concerns from the comments: I am sorry that you feel frustrated or tricked into reading this FF since I had tagged it as Brittana. In my mind, it is Brittana and Faberry, at the crux of it. I don't mean to mislead anyone and I wholeheartedly apologize for that. I do have the arc of this story planned out and if you will bear with me and my pace, I hope that you will see where this strange journey will take us. I should point out that my medical knowledge comes from my profession as a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) Nurse. I apologize for the use of medical jargon. Basically, Rachel has a placental abruption, where in the placenta abrupts, or tears away from her uterus. It is classified in stages and hers it pretty severe. Nuchal cord means that the umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby neck, in this case twice. Santana draws upon her medical expertise and the principles of NRP (neonatal resuscitation) to save the baby. So, I hope that clarifies some thing for y'all. I give you the next chapter; suggested listening: Santana & Brittany's rendition of "Landslide"_

**Chapter 6**

The last of my ballet students was leaving the studio. I was just cleaning up and going towards sound system when it came on: Landslide. Whenever I heard this song, I am brought back to that day, in the choir room. We are sitting on stools, with Holly between us, you singing how you felt to me, in front of everyone. I couldn't believe that this was how you felt and this was the way you were telling me. I knew that you loved me and you knew that I loved you. But this was so huge for you- to be that vulnerable, not just in front of me, but in front of the Glee club. I was so proud of you and I was even more taken aback by what happened after that. Before I knew it, I was singing along and meandering around the dance studio, dancing, as I remembered you approaching my locker. Your whispered confession; you finally told me that you loved me and just wanted me. It hurt me so much to turn you away that day and I will never forget that look on your face. I know that I had to do it because you finally acknowledging how you felt was just the first step that you needed to take to fully become the person I knew you could be. But, it hurt me even more to know that I was the one that caused you so much pain and anguish. I was sorry that I hurt you so badly but I was not sorry for doing it. As difficult as it was to be apart, I knew that it was necessary part for you to begin your road to acceptance. As the the final guitar chords played out, I did eight pirouettes and was shocked to hear applause. I turned around and saw my daughter, Barby, standing in the doorway.

"Jeez, Mom, way to show off," she said sheeplishly, before breaking out into a grin.

"Well, I have to prove to you that I still got it right?" I said, as I realized that my eyes had welled up in remembering you. In order to hide that from Barby, I challenged her to a pirouette duel. Loser was going to buy hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Never one to back down from a challenge, which I swear her competitive streak definitely comes from Rachel, she accepted. And just like her mama, she specified the rules.

"Three tries each. Your 8 counts as your 1st try, k? Here I go..."

I regained control of my emotions as I watched my talented daughter easily pull off 10 pirouettes. I was so proud of her and the woman she was becoming. She really did have the best of both of us, I thought as stood by and watched.

"Beat that, Mom!" she said triumphantly.

I still knew that I had it in me and I could be competitive too. So, I bested her and did 12 pirouettes. I looked at her and with the wave of my hand signaled her turn.

She was in the middle of her 13th when my cell phone rang. I ran over to get it when she exclaimed, "Fourteen! I'm so gonna win!" Then, she looked at my face and knew that something was gravely wrong. I turned as pale as a sheet and slumped down to the floor. After I heard Sam say that my wife was in the hospital and she had delivered our baby, I didn't hear the rest. Barby must have picked the phone out of my hand and talked to her Uncle Sam. She has your strength, Rachel and she was the one who brought me to you.

They were all sitting in waiting room, minus Mercedes and Marley, who are at Quinn and Santana's home with the kids. I was barely holding it all together, after my collapse at the dance studio. I just wanted to get you as fast as a NYC cab could go. We found our way to the surgical waiting room.. It wasn't until I saw Q, that I fell into her arms, sobbing and shaking against her.

I hate hospitals. The smell of the disinfectant, the austere lights, and the white coats walking up and down the halls made me ill. My dad was diagnosed with Adult Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) when I was only 8 years old. I had to spend a lot of time in the hospital, between all of the tests, chemotherapy, and radiation. Dr. Antonio Lopez, Santana's dad, was his oncologist. Her mom, Maribel, was also a doctor, an ob-gyn, and she was always on call. For Santana, being in the hospital was home. She helped to make it bearable and we became fast friends. My father went in and out of remission, but he kept beating the odds. He was able to see my oldest sister, Hannah, graduate from medical school and dance with her at her wedding. He was able to see my older brother, Hendrik, Jr. make it to the NBA. We were all hoping that he would be able to see me, his baby girl, graduate from McKinley. But, the summer before Senior year he relapsed again.

Dr. Lopez had told us that if he were to relapse again, that he would be limited in his treatment options. It was quite a miracle that he was still alive. Although he needed a walker to get around and a wheelchair when he was really tired, he was still involved in all our lives and our activities. He never missed any of Hannah's Brainiac meets, Hendrik's basketball games, or my dance recitals. Sometimes I forgot that he was even sick.

My mom and him sat us kids down and told us that he had relapsed and that this time it had spread to his lungs. My sister just closed her eyes and instinctively placed her hand on her baby bump, as her husband grabbed her hand. Hendrik stared straight ahead, as if the words just bounced off of his force field. I was crying as I went to sit on my papa's lap in his wheelchair. I was his little girl. He was the one who put me in my first tutu and ballet shoes.

He spoke in a certain, determined, practiced way. He took my mother's hand as he said, "After weighing my options with Dr. Lopez, we agree that we are out of options this time around. Doing more chemo and radiation will not have a great success rate, considering where the cancer had spread."

Hannah cleared her throat before speaking, "Well, I need to talk to Dr. Lopez. There has to be some clinical trial. I mean, right now, I am involved in a study, dad, about this specific instance. There just has to be more we can do."

He looked right at her, with sad eyes. "I am tired, Hannah-banana. I am so tired of fighting. He said that doing treatment would just make my last months miserable. He said that doing that would give me, at best, 6 more months, that would be filled with pain and suffering. I want to be able to enjoy the time I have left with you kids and your mom."

Hendrik armor's came down as he pounded his fist into the couch before storming off, expletives flying in rage out of his mouth.

"I'll go to him," my mom said out loud, while Jeff, my brother-in-law comforted my sister.

My dad took a stray hair and tucked it behind my ear. I put my head on his shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably.

"Hey, hey now, my baby girl. Come on. It will be okay, I promise."

After a few moments, I manage to speak, "Okay? How will it be okay, Papa? You are giving up. You going to die. You are going to leave me; leave us? How is THAT okay? None of it is," I cry out before I wrap my arms around him and hug him as tight as I can, as if that would keep him here with me.

I blink as that memory washes over me. He passed away right before Thanksgiving, his favorite holiday. Hannah had given birth to a boy, Hendrik the 3rd, in October, so Dad was able to meet his grandson. But he never got to see my Senior Recital or New Directions win Nationals.

All of us dealt with our grief in different ways. My mom, as devastated as she was, sought comfort in knowing my dad's pain was over. She got involved in a Widow Cancer Group and volunteering on the Cancer Ward. Hannah and Jeff were engrossed with taking care of their infant son. Hendrik took all his pain and translated it into his best year in the NBA. It seemed that my whole family was finding a way to make it through, even thrive, without my dad.

I couldn't. The only one I let in was Santana. Everyone else thought I was coping. I still made it to Cheerios practice and Glee Club. My schoolwork was the thing I just couldn't handle. I was never the best student. Santana always told me how smart I was, that I was a "unicorn." I came to learn that I had an unconventional type of intelligence: it was an emotional intelligence. I had an eternally optimistic outlook on the world. I never understood why people chose to be mad and upset. I always thought it was easier to just be happy and I tried to spread my cheer. Often, people mistook my optimism and innocence for stupidity. Santana never put me down or called me stupid. She knew that I was a different kind of genius. I could read people really well and sense what they were feeling. I was the best at reading Santana. I just wasn't the best with the Emancipation Proclamation or Shakespeare.

Senior year, Santana was in AP Biology, Chemistry, and English. The only classes we had together were Spanish, History, and Home Economics. She had always done my Spanish homework and helped me on the tests. However, this was the first time we didn't have all of the same classes. She wanted to switch out of the AP classes, as soon as she found out I was flunking after Fall Quarter. I convinced her that I would do better, try harder, and even got Tina to tutor me. So, she didn't switch her classes, as much as she wanted to.

Mr. Schue noticed me struggling. He was the only one who saw thru the facade. He talked to Miss Pillsbury and she called me into her office on the first day of school after winter break.

"Brittany, how was your winter break?"

I just dissolved into tears. It was the first Christmas without my dad. Christmas was always my favorite holiday. The decorating, the smell of cookies wafting through the house, the crisp, cold air that nipped you nose- it all made me so happy. I thought that that time of year brought out the best in everyone. I mean, how could you be mad or sad, when you see children sitting on Santa's lap or when you are singing Christmas hymns at church? Now, all the things that made me love this holiday season, just made me more depressed. Since it was Trey's 1st Christmas, we all tried our best to make it great for him. I tried as best as I could, to be present at Midnight Mass, even as Fr. George mentioned my dad amongst the parishoners of our church that had died this past year. I made it thru Christmas dinner and the opening of presents. But when I was finally alone in my room, I couldn't fake it anymore. I wept into my pillow, shaking as the tears tumbled down. I knew where I had to be.

I snuck out of my house and rode my bike over to Santana's house. I climbed up the tree, right outside of her window. I opened it and creeped in as softly and silently as I could. I saw her sleeping peacefully and it brought the first genuine smile to my face that whole day. I took off my mittens, shrugged off my peacoat, unwrapped my scarf around my neck and just watched her in the moonlight.

My dad was so wonderful when I told him about us. He said that he kind of always knew and that it was okay to love another girl because it is the love that matters, not the gender of the person.

And I was so in love with Santana. It was her that kept me going. She had finally found the courage I knew she always had, to finally be free, open and proud. She was so proud to walk down the halls of McKinley with me, arm in arm; to kiss me at our lockers, before she went off to Chemistry lab. She was the only thing I looked forward to everyday.

I got up from her reading chair and pulled down my flannel pajama pants to my boy shorts and slipped under the sheets with her. She turned around and enveloped me in her arms. Santana was always so warm. She always said it was her fiery Latina blood running through her veins. I suddenly felt guilty to be here, in my girlfriend's bed. I should be in my own bed, dealing with my own sadness. I shouldn't be here, bringing my sadness and coldness into the room of the person I loved the most in this whole world. She must have felt my hesitation; Santana knew me so well. We were so attuned to each other that sometimes we didn't even need words. She placed a gentle, feather-light kiss on my lips. I could tell that she was smiling into it; she could tell that I wasn't. San pulled back to look at me, seeing my sad, tear-filled blue eyes. I could barely make out her dark chocolate eyes, thru my tears and the darkness.

Santana didn't break the silence with words. Maybe it was because she didn't know what to say. I didn't know what she could have said to make me feel any better. The thing is that, with Santana, her actions truly did speak louder than her words. I learned that a long time ago. I learned to see what she doing, rather that what she was saying. I think that was why everyone at McKinley thought she was a cold-hearted bitch. She could talk a big game, toss insults here and there. No one ever saw what she did: volunteered on the children's cancer ward at Lima General Hospital; sang in her church choir every Sunday; tutored elementary school kids in Lima Heights. She was the most amazing person I had ever met. People thought she had a heart of stone; I knew she had a heart of gold.

She began to thumb away my tears until they slowly stopped falling. I was about to say something, but she stopped me, by kissing me again and again and again. This was how Santana knew how to comfort me. This was how she showed me that she loved me. Even when she was too scared to admit it to herself back when we were sophomores, I knew that she loved me. Her actions told me so, just like they did now. If anything, I knew it even more, because she had accepted it in herself. By finally embracing that part of her being, Santana was able to finally be the person I knew she could always be. I think that everyday, she was beginning to see that person she could be, too. Santana made love to me that night. It was one of those nights I will never forget. She gave the best Christmas gift I could have ever wanted: herself.

I couldn't believe that I was thinking of that as my wife was in the Operating Room, possibly dying. Why was I thinking of Santana, of being in her arms, at a time like this? I started violently shaking, trying to shake the memory out of mind. Quinn's arms hugged me, trying to ease my trembles. I was slowing down, until I realized that I had just thought about my best friend's wife. Here she was, comforting me, crying for me and my wife, and I had just remembered an intimate memory I has shared with her wife. I had to get away. I broke free from her embrace and ran to the place I knew no one would find me.


	8. Chapter 8

Part II: The Month Everything Changed

Chapter 1: Whenever You Remember

Suggested listening: From Carrie Underwood's debut album, Some Hearts, "Whenever You Remember"

I was stunned, standing, with my arms empty, my eyes, heavy with tears, and my heart, pulled in too many directions. I didn't even know how I was still standing.

I could vaguely see Tina running after Britt, which was good, because I didn't think I could even take a step forward right now. I felt something when I was holding her in my arms. All of a sudden, I saw guilt pass across Brittany's eyes before she ran off. Why would she look at me that way? What is does she feel guilty for? If anything, it is I who should feel guilty.

Lately, I have been thinking more and more about Rachel. Specifically, our time before kids and marriage and adult responsibilities. Our time together, before Brittany and Santana, when it was you and I and it was them, and not how we are now. It is was not like I was wishing for Rachel to be mine or that I was having any trouble with Santana. In fact, I think watching my wife try to save my best friend and her baby, made me fall in love with her all over again.

I was just longing for a simpler time, as if the time when were together was ever simple. I guess that time has a way of making you forget all the difficult times and makes only the best times stand out. I can close my eyes and recall when it was just the two of us against the world, learning how to be independent women in New York City. I was so fucking scared of everything when I left Lima for Yale. I kept up appearances and gave no clue to my massive worries and insecurities. I wouldn't even let Judy come and help me move-in to my freshman dorm. I said good-bye to her and my past at the airport. It wasn't until I was all alone in my single room at Yale that I broke down and cried. Since my asshole of a father and absent, self-involved older sister both graduated from Yale, I was able to get my own room. For once, I was more than happy to pull that "Legacy" bullshit if it meant I didn't have to share my space with anyone. I was doing okay that 1st month in: attending my classes, enjoying my new environment. It wasn't until I was all alone in my room, when all of my schoolwork was done, I had nothing else to do to occupy my mind. It would always drift to you and the past I left behind.

A past I so desperately wanted to escape and forget: where I didn't give my daughter away; when I sought love from Finn, Puck, and Sam, knowing that deep down it wasn't them I longed for; when I was so mean to you to hide how I much I loved you; when I acted like a bitch to everyone, knowing that I was just a scared, little girl who didn't know how to reconcile the love I felt for you and the religion I believed in. I needed a fresh, new start, where nobody knew my past and I could be reborn into the person I knew I could be. I saw Yale as my new beginning and it was far away enough away from you, but also close enough to know that you were just a train ride away. We had gotten closer that summer before we started our new lives in the big city, learning how to be friends, after being adversaries for so long. It all felt so new, forging this tenuous friendship with you. I was still so very careful because I didn't want to ruin it.

After you came back from your forced trip to NYC and NYADA, we tentatively started our friendship. Kurt, Blaine, Santana, Brittany, you, and I would go shopping for stuff we needed for college. We were going to Walmart, Target, and Macy's almost every day to get sheets or a lamp or some other thing that was on the check-lists that were sent out with all of our acceptance letters. You were going to be living with Kurt. Santana was going to be living off-campus with her twin cousins, Regina and Rebecca, who were sophomores at Columbia. Blaine and Brittany were going to finish their senior year at McKinley, with hope and plans to follow us to New York after graduation. The funny thing is, at the end of the day, when Klaine and Brittana left, we would still be there, not wanting to leave but not really knowing how to stay. So, I would leave first and the next time you would leave first. It was 5 weeks into our last summer in Ohio when we didn't have to leave each other. We were going to have a slumber party to celebrate because Mercedes and Puck were leaving for California next week. We all ended up in Santana's home because she had the biggest house and no parents around, since they were always working at Lima General Hospital.

You were last arrive and the party was already in full swing. Predictably, San was already two drinks ahead of everyone, encouraging all of us to keep up with her. Britt was jumping off of the diving board, while Arty, Mercedes, Mike and Tina were over at sound system making a playlist off of Santana's iTunes. Finn, Sam and Puck were by the beer keg that Santana's dad got, as a bon voyage present for all of us. I think he was genuinely happy that you finally had friends, Santana, and as long as we swore to not drive that night and stay at the house, he trusted you. Kurt and Blaine had said their hellos then went off somewhere, for some private time. Sugar was mixing the girly cocktails with Santana, which, in hindsight, was not the best idea. They were making ridiculously strong mai tais and cosmos. I remember feeling nervous when I had no reason to. I was amongst friends, the people who stood by my side when I needed them the most. I felt too restless; even Santana, in her drunken haze picked up on it. She dragged me indoors and no one even noticed.

"Q, why are you so fucking nervous, right now?"

"I am NOT, Santana."

"Can't fool me, Quinnie. Whenever you say you are 'NOT' in that tone of voice, you so are."

I sighed in defeat. There was no real point in lying to her. She could always read me like an open book. Before I could even say anything, she says it:

"Berry, right? You are thinking of manhands, wait, sorry. Rachel. You are thinking of Rachel," she says, as she touches my arm and looks at me with sincerity. This is the Santana that I was getting to see more and more of. Perhaps it was Brittany's influence or the idea that this would be our last summer ever in Lima, Ohio, that made her more open and genuine. People always marvel at the closeness between her and Brittany. They always seem to forget that we were all best friends since forever. We had known each other since Santana was the new girl that September day, our first day of 3rd grade. I suppose, it was more of a tense love/hate friendship between us versus the love/love relationship she had with Brittany, even as 8-year olds. Ten years later, standing in her kitchen, with no more Cheerios or Glee, no more hiding her love for Brittany, I saw Santana with new eyes. I saw a confident, self-assured, woman released from all the pretenses and expectations that previously held her back. In her, I could see all of the things I wanted to be, but I wouldn't let myself. Santana seemed to see my face change, as she just pulled me into her arms.

"I know, Q. You love her, you really do. And that's so fucking scary, isn't it? Trust me, the more you push it down and ignore it; the more you try to forget, the stronger it becomes, until all you do is think about her 24/7. "

"But I already do that San. I think about Rachel all the fucking time. What do I do, S? I can't do anything about it. I mean, I cannot tell her. She'll just laugh in my face. She'll think I am pulling some kind of joke. I'm a fucking mess."

I hear the backdoor open and see Britt walk in. She has had the unenviable task of being peacemaker between San and I for years. She had a soft smile on her face as she saw us embracing. I guess she assumed she was going to be breaking up another one of our massive fights. She took one look at me, then to her girlfriend, and she just said, matter-of-factly: "You got it bad, huh, Quinn."

I was so grateful to have them in my life, not just as my oldest and closest friends, but for their experiences with acceptance and coming out. They never judged me or pushed me towards anything I was not ready for. They were just there for me, after I revealed my true reasons for bullying you. After that, Santana stopped calling you all those horrible names, except for "manhands," but she said it ina different tone. She wasn't using it to taunt you anymore; she said it in a caring way, well as much as Santana could say anything to anyone in a caring tone, who was not Brittany S. Pierce. Even you picked up on it and you appreciated this new kindness you were given. You didn't know it was because of me. It was because Santana finally understood the whole Perfectionist Ice Queen persona that I held for so long. Just like I understood her whole Head Bitch In Campus persona. We had to keep up these reputations to hide our true selves from the world and, more importantly, from ourselves. As long as we could play these roles, no one would suspect that we were two scared shitless lesbians in love with our best friends. Well, Britt was Santana's BFF and she was mine too. You and I were just starting to be friends and I was already in love with you for so long.

We stayed in the kitchen for awhile, enough for Santana to sober up, Brittany to snake her way in between us, and for me to calm down, thanks to my best friends. I think it was Sue who first called us "The Unholy Trinity" and I know we did reek havoc upon McKinley. Brittany and Santana were my oldest, closest, and dearest friends. I know that, while I was ready to move on, I was hoping that I would never move on from them and our friendship. I excused myself from them so that could have some private time. I always knew that there was something more between them, even when we were little kids. It was electric, in the air around them, and it was undeniable. I know that it took them a long to figure out what it was and that it took San even longer to accept it. Before I went back out on the deck, I looked back at them, just holding each other, and I smiled to myself. I knew that there was nothing that would ever come between those two. Brittany and Santana had become Brittana.

As soon as I got to the pool area, Sugar handed me a cocktail, and I saw you over by the boys. They were making you laugh and I could see that Finn was trying to get close to you. I cringed as I saw it happened, the alcohol making things less awkward between the two of you. I downed the insanely strong drink, grabbed another one, and headed over to the keg. Since I had dated all three of them, made out with them, gave birth to one of their daughters, I knew that I still had a hold over all of them. Well, not so much on Finn, since he was still in love with you. Sam was a sweetheart; he so full of love that he gave it to me, Mercedes, and maybe even Santana. Puck did care and I knew that he was in love with me, when I was carrying Beth. That was the thing: all of these men, at some point, were in love with me, over the last three years. What did I feel for them? I realized, taking in the scene before, that I never did love any of them. I was only in love with you. I downed that 2nd cosmopolitan and I walked into the conversation. Sam was doing his ridiculous impressions and it was obvious that everyone was buzzing. The cocktail Sugar made gave me the liquid courage I needed to do what I so afraid of doing.

"Hey, Rachel. Can I grab you for a second?"

You looked at me curiously, but I know you would come with me. You just nod your head and, before I know it, I am shepherding you over to the gazebo. I didn't think this far ahead and Sugar's knock out cocktails are really hitting me now. I look at you and recognize the glassy, goofy look upon your face. The last time I saw it was at your dads' house the night we all got wrecked.

I sat us both down on the bench in the gazebo. It was far enough away from everyone that they we couldn't really hear what was going on. It was private. Santana had turned on the white Christmas lights they had here all year long. They had lit citronella candles to keep the bugs away. I didn't even know what I was doing and you didn't either.

"Quinn, what are we doing here?" you asked, looking around. It was the first time you were here. This new friendship gave you access to Santana's home since I was always here, instead of my own home. Britts, San, and I were always sleeping at each other houses since forever. We were so close that it didn't dawn on me that maybe this was the first slumber party you ever had. It was certainly your first one at Santana's house. and she basically lived on an estate. There were so many parts you had not been to yet, just like this one. I smiled as I remembered what this spot was to us; Britts, San, and I used this place to make out with boys, then they used it to make out with each other. Fuck! Is that what I thinking of doing here, with Rachel? The alcohol fog was clearing my mind and I could see that Britt and San had set this up for me: the lights, the music, the candles. It was what they were hinting at in the kitchen:

"Q, you just need to relax. Have a couple of those awesome cocktails that Sugar is making. Give some to Rachel and just go with the flow. Stop thinking so much. It will make your head explode. Spend time with her. Let her get to know this Quinn, the one that we love."

Santana adds, "Yeah, Quinn. Listen to my girlfriend. Give her that Fabray charm. Take over to, well, you know the place, where the magic happens, "as she gives me a wink.

Well, we were there, were all of the magic usually does happen and you were looking at me expectantly, since I was the one that brought you here. I was glad that you were more buzzed than me and I could see that they had left a bucket with champagne and 2 flutes. They also left me a note, that I snatched out of your view and quickly read, in Santana's chicken scratch:"Go get you girl, Quinnie, even if it is manhands." Then, in Brittany's crayon scribble: "Be bold. Be you, Q. xoxo p.s. look in the fridge"

"What's that?" You ask me.

"Oh, it's a note from Santana on where everything is." Apparently, they also left strawberries and vegan whipped cream (there was such a thing?) in the mini fridge that was normally stocked with more liquor.

"Are you hungry, Rach, cause there are some strawberries, if you would like some."

I think, I was just happy to have something to say. I felt my phone vibrate and looked at the new message: 'Good, you made it over there. Go get her, tiger.' I text back Santana: 'Thanks for the set-up, I think,' as I open the fridge and grab the items.

Rachel's eyes go wide with anticipation as she sees the strawberries and cream. I should have guessed that strawberries would be her favorite, with Berry as her last name. We ate those and had some fun with the whipped cream, flinging it at each other. I opened the bottle of champagne, thankful for the benefit of more alcohol, to ease my nerves. If Rachel were a boy, I'd already be rounding 2nd base by now. I was so clueless with her. I poured us two glasses of the bubbly and handed her one.

You said, "I think a toast is in order..."

I know enough to never steal a moment of spotlight from you, "Go ahead, Rachel. You make the toast."

You clear your throat and I think you are also trying to clear your booze-filled mind, before you speak: "To Us...(I nearly choked on the strawberry I was eating) this new friendship we are starting. I am really so glad, Quinn, that we can be friends now. I never thought it was possible. So, to us, and to our bright new futures away from Lima," you conclude, with your champagne flute raised high.

I add, "Yeah, Rach, to our friendship and our new beginnings at NYADA and Yale."

We clink glasses before tasting the the golden, bubbly liquid. I was sure that this was the first time drinking champagne, because you had this giddy look on your face as you felt the beverage enter you mouth and go down. I took a second glance at the bottle and realized that Santana had stolen this from her parents' secret stash of alcohol, the one they thought we didn't know about. Besides the palacial house, the accessibility of alcohol was another reason why Santana hosted these parties. Her parents trusted her and she was raised to have respect for the pleasure and power of alcohol. It was very European, which made sense, because her mother spent her childhood in Spain and France before moving to America for high school. Dr. Lopez raised her daughter to have an appreciation for wine with meals, for aperitifs and after-dinner drinks. It gave Santana an alcohol lexicon far beyond her 18 years and it did make her responsible. Her parents would rather she have us (meaning Brittany and I) at their house, drinking and spending the night, instead of us getting wasted at some houseparty or frat house.

"This is the good stuff, Rachel, so enjoy it. This bottle here costs $100." I say, as I savor another sip.

You look at me in amazement. "How do you know that?"

"This is from Dr. Lopez's private collection. Santana must have smuggled it out when they were not looking. This is really good champagne. You can taste the fruity notes..."

"Wait, so you have had this before? Private collection?"

I laugh as I begin to explain Santana's upbringing and how she taught me everything she knew about wine, champagne, and cocktails. It was because of San that I couldn't drink beer, not when all this other stuff was so much better. I forgot that there was so much Rachel didn't know about Santana. There so much more that she didn't know about me.

As I finished my explanation, I poured us another glass. I could feel my buzz coming back and I was feeling more at ease with the situation at hand. I saw you and you took my breath away. With the twinkling lights illuminating you, wearing an pretty sundress that showed off your legs, I could feel my desire for you growing. I blushed as I looked at your lips lingering on the rim of your flute, wondering what it would be like to kiss you.

I put my glass down and stood up. I extended my hand out to you:

"Rachel Barbra Berry, may I have this dance?"

You looked up at me, with those beautiful brown eyes, put down your glass and gave me your hand. I spun you around until we were in proper position, as I led us all around floor of the gazebo. We took turns dipping each other. Being in Glee had made us both better dancers and we enjoyed dancing around for the fun of it, with no competition at stake. I was having so much fun, just being with you like this. I looked in your eyes and could tell that you were having just as much fun. I detected a bit of surprise and shock, too. After all, a couple of months ago, this would have never happened. We would never be alone, drinking champagne, dancing, in Santana Lopez's backyard. Yet, here we were and it all felt so right. It was the first time I was in this gazebo and it all finally made sense. The feeling I was searching for, longing for, with all those boys, I had found it with you. It so exhilarating and so terrifying at the same time. I knew that I did love you I had for a long time. But being like this, in this moment, it made me remember what Santana and Brittany looked like. It made me remember what it looks like to be in love. Santana told me that when she finally realized she was in love with Brittany, it felt like the most wonderful feeling in the world, like she was free. But that she was also so scared, that her love for her was so overwhelming, it terrified her. And that was exactly how I felt.

I was in this moment, my head spinning from love and alcohol, dancing with you, looking at you and just wanting you so much. I had never felt like this about anyone before. It was never more crystal clear to me: I was in love with you and being in love you meant that was gay. I could no longer deny these two truths I had been running from; not when you were so close to me, I could smell your shampoo and feel your hand at the small of my back. I closed the small space between us and embraced you. It was the first time, I ever hugged you. Sure, you had hugged me in the past, but I never reciprocated and most certainly, never initiated it. I held onto you, buried my nose in your hair, and breathed in your intoxicating scent. Time stood still. It was just you and I, in this space, where nothing else mattered. I could feel your arms encircling me. I didn't even realize I crying, until you said it:

"Quinn? Are you okay? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

You grabbed me by the shoulders and took a step back, to see the tears rolling down my cheeks. You thumbed them away, in a such a caring and gentle way, that it only made cry more. It made me feel guilty for all those times I made you cry and I wasn't there to comfort you. It was not your fault that I loved you and you never deserved any of the torment I put you through. I was so selfish. How were you to know that it made me die inside, every insult I said to your face? I didn't know how to ask for your forgiveness. I know that I had no right to even ask for it. After that toast you made, sincerely wanting us to be friends, I knew that I had to give you some sort of explanation. You deserved that much for me; to know why, for four long-suffering years, I bullied you. I took several gulps of air before I spoke:

"I am so sorry, Rachel. I know that you might not believe me, but I really am sorry, for all of it: the nicknames, the sneers, the looks, for making your life a living hell. I am so very, very sorry, Rachel. You need to believe me. If I could take it all back, I would. Every single word. But I cannot. I know that you don't have to believe me. I don't even know why you are here with me right now. How you can stand to even be near me, after everything I put you through. Shit. I just...I apologize, Rachel. Please for forgive me. As difficult as it may be for you to believe this, I honestly never meant to hurt you. I just had, well I still have so much to deal with and I guess I just took it all out on you. Which was completely unfair and unnecessary. You did nothing to deserve the way I treated you. I am ashamed and embarrassed at my behavior. I would understand if you never wanted to see me or speak to me ever again. Just know that I am truly sorry, Rachel, ok? I am sorry."

I broke out of your embrace, because I couldn't stand to look at you looking at me like that, with pity and understanding, instead of the hate and anger I deserved. I thought I was fast enough to make my escape, but you pulled me back into your arms. You soothed me, rocked me, until I stopped shaking, until I cried out all of my tears. It was long time after, as we sat back upon the bench, still in each other's arms, that you spoke:

"Quinn, I always admired you. Ever since the first day I met you, in 9th grade. You always had this aura of confidence and bravado about you. You were the prettiest girl I ever saw and you looked nothing like me: Tall, slim, with gorgeous, long blonde hair and hazel eyes. You were athletic, already picked for The Cheerios. You were in the popular crowd from the first day of high school. You were smart too, in most of the honors classes, with Santana. I was enamored by you, but so was everyone else- the boys wanted you, the girls wanted to be you, the teachers wished all of their students were like you. I guess I was happy that you just noticed me. Sure, the words hurt, but your insults were always so clever; not the usual things I would hear. As the years went on, I just expected it from you and grew to accept it. I knew that I didn't have "manhands" or looked like a "hobbit;" I did have self-worth and self-confidence. It just made me wonder what you were hiding. I could tell that there was something you were holding back and I could see that you were playing everyone. You were the perfect student, cheerleader, girlfriend, until you weren't and got pregnant with Beth. Then everyone abandoned you. Except Glee club...except me."

I couldn't believe that you saw thru it all; that you could tell I was hiding something from the entire world.

"I wanted so much to be your friend, instead of enemies. But Finn got in the way and we were constantly vying for him. And now? Here we are. Finn is out of the picture for me and for you. And we can now be friends. So, Quinn, I accept your apology. And I forgive you. Let's leave it all in the past. I don't want to carry this heavy baggage over to New York City, I have enough bags to carry, don't you?"

I swear, I couldn't love you even more in that moment. You forgave me and did feel some of the weight I was carrying lift from me. I almost told you that night, how I felt, but I think that one big emotional cry fest was enough for one night. I still had a lot to sort out and think about. So, I took a napkin and dabbed your eyes. I looked deep into them and just acted. I gave you a quick peck on the lips and said, "Thank you Rachel. You will never know what this means to me." I took you by the hand and led you back to the party, before you could even process what just happened. Of course, I would tell you much later on what that night meant to me; how it began my journey of self-acceptance; how it led me to you, three years later, underneath the blanket of stars, when I finally, really kissed you that way I wanted to for so long.

"Here, Quinn, I got you a hot tea with lemon, " Sam says as he hands me the warm cup. "You okay?" he asks, full of concern. I shake my head, as if that action could stop the memories from coming.

He wraps me in a hug and I give myself into the comfort of his arms. Mike had to go back to the studio and Tina was presumably with Brittany. Mercedes, Arty, and Marley came and left, as did Blaine and Kurt. I didn't know how long we were all in the waiting room. It felt like all time had stopped. Slowly, people had to leave, get back to the kids. With promises of updates, soon it was just Sam and I waiting.

"She'll make it, Quinn. You'll see. She's got the best in there. Your wife will do everything she can to fix her."

Hearing Sam talk about Santana just makes me remember how dramatically our dynamic has changed since high school. How the Unholy Trinity and Rachel Berry has turned into what it is now. I never could have imagined this, in any dream. I prayed that my wife could do it; save Rachel. She already saved her daughter, she had to save Rachel too.

As if on cue, the door of the waiting room opened, and a tired and dejected Santana went straight into my arms. I didn't know how to gauge this action, so I just waited until my wife spoke:

"Rachel is still alive. We almost lost her a couple of times. We still might. But, for now, she is alive. Dr. Novick and I tried to do everything we could to prevent it, but she had to have a total hysterectomy. She is in recovery right now, then she will taken to the ICU. Where's Britts?" San scans the room, seeing just Sam and I.

Sam speaks: "She ran out of here a while a go. I assume that she is with Tina, unless she is still running all over this hospital, trying to find Brittany."

A small smile creeps unto Santana's face. "I know where she is. How is the baby?"

"We don't know because we are not immediate family." Quinn answers.

"Well, fuck that. Don't they know who are her parents are? Who I am? I do enough for this goddamn hospital..."

I know, from experience, to just let you go off on a tirade, especially when there is so much at stake. Sam and I just follow after you, on a rampage towards the NICU. Seeing the entrance makes me remember the last time I was here, when Holden and Harper were born. You could feel my apprehension, as you turned around and took my hands.

"Baby, I'm just going to go and talk to Lisa and see what is going on with the baby, ok? Stay here with Sam. I'll be right back," Santana says, as she kisses me, to reassure me and to center herself. I can tell what she needs when she kisses me like that, so I kiss her back, to let her know how much I love her. She squeezes my hands before she lets them go. She uses her badge to let her into the locked down unit and smiles at me, before the door closes behind her. Sam just puts his arm around me and we wander off to the big window in from nursery, where there are a bunch of overjoyed fathers, grandparents, and siblings pointing at healthy babies, swaddled in standard hospital blankets, with blue or pink caps on their heads. As I looked at all of those babies, I wished that Brittany and Rachel's baby was here, instead fighting for her life in the NICU.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's note:** I apologize for the long delay; was dealing with personal stuff. Been working on this chapter for over a month. I hope it is worth the wait. happy reading (; xoxo_

_**Chapter Two: Breathe**_

_**Glee does mash-ups all the time, right? So, here is mine! **_

_**Suggested listening: **__From Michelle Branch's sophomore album, Hotel Paper, "Breathe" and _

_Anna Nalick's acoustic version of "Breathe (2am)"_

I stepped inside the anteroom to scrub and gown up. I take a couple of deep breaths to compose myself. My hunger and thirst hit me as I finishing scrubbing my hands. I remember that I didn't even get to eat anything during brunch. I make a mental note to get something as soon as I find out how the baby is. I make my way over to the Medical Director of the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). She looks up from the chart she is reading.

"Well, well, look who we have here. If it isn't Doctor Santana Lopez? To what do we owe this honor? You, gracing us with your presence..." Dr. Paquette asks, in a joking manner. Under any other circumstances, I would joke right back at her. But I see her standing over a Giraffe incubator that is labeled "Baby Girl Berry-Pierce." I took a look inside and saw Rachel and Brittany' baby girl: so small and fragile.

"Lisa, this is my niece, my best friends' daughter. I delivered her at my home."

"Oh my God, Santana, I didn't realize. Well, good thing you were there, otherwise I don't think she would have made it," she tells me.

I wince as I hear Lisa say that. We have known each other since our very first day of medical school at Yale. We hit it off immediately after randomly sitting next to each other during orientation and have been best friends ever since. We were lived together in Boston as we completed our residencies. By then, I was with Quinn and she moved in with us, since she got hired at the Museum of Fine Arts, after she completed her Ph.D at Yale. Lisa met Mark, a pediatric resident, who would become her husband, during her residency. She was at Children's Hospital of Boston and I was a quick walk away at Brigham and Women's Hospital. All of us moved to NYC afterwards, with our significant others, where were both was offered fellowships at Columbia-Presbyterian. By virtue of the specialties we had chosen, we saw each other a lot professionally, in dire situations, just as this. I can see her put it all together, as the picture of how this premature infant ended up here. She obviously knows Rachel and Brittany; she realizes why that last name was so familiar. "Holy shit, Lopez. This is Rach's baby? Ohmygod. How is she? How is Brittany?

"Yea, I know, Lise. Rachel was scheduled for an ultrasound next week. Her pregnancy was uneventful, perfect even, until this. It just happened so quickly, you know? I reacted and did what I had to. I stabilized the baby because I knew that was what Rachel would want. Thank god she was still alive once the paramedics arrived. I just finished up in the OR. It was touch and go for a while and she is still in critical condition. If she makes it through the next 24 hours, her chances are really good. So, how is Baby Girl Berry-Pierce?"

Lisa takes a deep breath, exhales, before she speaks: "Well, by dates she was 31weeks but by Ballard it was more like 29 weeks. Intubated on SIMV but she is requiring more support, so if this next ABG is bad, we will have to switch her to an Oscillator." I look at all of the drips she is on: Fentanyl, Versed, Dopamine. All of the wires assembled in a nest around her, making her appear even smaller than she already is. "Triple antibiotics have been started: Ampicillin, Gentamicin, and Cefotaxime." All things considered, she is hanging on, San." Lisa gives me her warm smile and a desperately needed hug. Lisa was the best neonatologist in New York City who happened to be one of my best friends. She took care of the twins, since they were premies too, just not this early.

She changes the conversation, knowing that there is not much more to report. "How are my godchildren, Holden and Harper? (She was their other godmother, along with Brittany and Rachel.) I haven't seen them since their christening and that was months ago." I pull out my iPhone and show her the latest pictures of them. She marvels at them, just as I do each time I see my babies.

"Promise me you will call me with any news, k, Lise? I need to go find Britts and update her," I tell my friend.

"You have my word, Santana. Bring Brittany here as soon as you can. We can explain everything to her together," she answers. We embrace once again, before she is called away to another patient.

I look inside the incubator and I can feel the tears welling up. She just looks so small in there. I think over what happened at home: Did I do everything right? Did I forget something? It was such a blur and I was running on pure adrenaline. I need to find Brittany.

Tina sees Sam and Quinn in front of the giant window of the newborn nursery. A happy memory washes over her: Mike pushing her wheelchair here, so she could see their brand new baby girl, Kathryn Emma, amongst all the newborns. This situation was the complete opposite of that. Santana was all their Ob-Gyn, so she delivered their babies, with the exception of Holden (despite her pleas, she couldn't deliver her own baby) and the triplets, since Mercedes was in Los Angeles at the time. They had all stood in front of this window, seeing all of their "nieces & nephews" after they were born. Now, Baby Girl Berry-Pierce wasn't here, like she should have been. She should have been here like two months from now, not today. She was in the NICU, fighting for her life, just like her mama, and Tina couldn't find her other mother.

"Hey, guys. I can't find Brittany. I looked everywhere I could think of," Tina says defeated.

"No worries, Tina. Santana said she knows where Brittany is. She just went to the NICU to talk to the doctor," Quinn explains.

I walk out of the unit and turn the corner to find them all standing in front of the newborn nursery window. I walk up to Tina first and hug her.

"Tina, you were amazing back there. You sure you still want to to be an admissions director? 'Cause you were pretty kick-ass. I could always use another set of hands here in the hospital." I say.

Tina smiles and everyone laughs, grateful for the small moment to diffuse the heavy situation.

"And you, my wife. Lisa said that what we did probably saved Baby Girl Berry-Pierce's life. So, I guess we are a pretty dynamic duo, huh, baby?" I open my arms to you as the emotion of the past couple of hours overwhelms me and I start to cry on my wife's shoulder. After a couple of moments, I can feel Sam pat me on the back.

"Hey Santana, I really have to go. I am sorry. I didn't want Quinn and Brittany to be alone. The babies are okay. Everyone has convened at your home and I mean everyone, literally. I don't think you'll have any food left in your fridge." Sam says, to break the somber mood. He continues, "So, Tina and I could go give them an update. Barby made me promise to ask you to call her as soon as possible. She hasn't told Noah anything, other than Rachel had to go to the hospital. She didn't want to scare him and she was waiting for you."

"Of course, of course Sam. Quinn, maybe you go with them and bring Barby and Noah here? I'll find Brittany and hopefully, Rachel will be out of recovery by then." I answer him.

"And guys, don't worry about H squared because we'll take them for the night, okay?" They can have an sleepover with Katy" Tina says warmly.

"Please tell Brittany not to worry about Tristan. Mercedes and I will take him. When you have triplets, what is one more, right?" Sam says jokingly.

He really is such a great guy. I mean, all of our friends are awesome. I am so grateful for this family- our huge, dysfunctional, chosen family. It is times like these, when things seem at there worst, that the strength and bonds of friendship matter the most. I kiss Quinn and give her one more hug.

"Are you sure, babe?" Quinn whispers in my ear.

"Yeah. I would rather not have Barby and Noah take a cab over here alone. This way, you can come back with them. By then, things will be more clear. I'll find Brittany, don't you worry, okay? Things are as good as it gets for now; there is nothing left to do but wait. I'll see you in about an hour?" I answer her.

Tina rifles thru her bag and hands me a juice box, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a Hello Kitty-shaped container full of Goldfish. "I know it's not much, but you haven't eaten since forever. I always carry extra, just in case Katy gets hungry. Girl Scout motto, you remember Santana? Always be prepared!" Tina exclaims.

I again marvel at how wonderful our friends truly are.

"Damn, Cohen-Chang. Leave it to you to bring up our days back as Girl Scouts." I reply as I take the food. "Thanks Tina, thanks Sam, for everything. Now, go and take my wife with you."

I watch them walk out then I head to my office. I need to clean myself up and change my clothes. I don't want Brittany to see me like this. After I quickly eat, brush my teeth, wash my face, and put on a fresh, clean set of scrubs, I saunter out of my office and head to where I know I will find her.

I met Brittany, Quinn, and Tina on my first day of school in 3rd grade. I was the new girl and they were all friends. Believe it or not, I was shy and awkward back then. It was because we had to move around so much during my childhood. My mami and papi were doctors in the United States Army. I spent the first nine years of my life all over the world: the Philippines, Spain, and France. They both retired after 20 years of active duty and decided to move to Lima, Ohio.

My mom went to McKinley after my grandfather had retired from the military. Yup, public service was in my blood. Moving to Lima gave my mom the normal life she yearned for, since she was an Army brat for all of her childhood, too. My grandparents were still there. Both my parents wanted that same stability for me. Hence, there was I, standing in front of the classroom of Miss Bliss' 3rd grade class. I hated being the new girl, especially since I was a year older than all these kids. My mom thought the transition would be easier for me if I repeated the 3rd grade. She told me it was for the best, but of course, I had that signature stubborn Lopez attitude, coupled with her fiery Latina blood. Now, I was glad that she did that. Moms are always right. It made the transition easier for me and if I had been in 4th grade, then I never would have become friends with them. The ramifications of that single decision my mother made changed my life forever.

I knew she could be in one of two places. Granted, this was not Lima General Hospital, where Brittany and I started our friendship. She was the first one to befriend me and thru her, I became friends with Quinn and Tina. Really, Brittany was friends with everyone in our class. She always had a magnetic personality, even back then. I was guarded those first weeks of school, trying to settle into my new life. I was happy to know that I would never have to be the new girl ever again. The transition was much harder than I anticipated. I was the only military brat. I had lived in different countries; I doubted if any of my classmates had even been on an airplane. I spoke so many languages: English, Spanish, French, Tagalog by virtue of growing up in each of those countries. It was very overwhelming for me. I was happy when the weekend rolled around. I would go to Lima General and play with the kids on the Pediatric Ward, while my parents worked.

I went up to the roof of the hospital and sure enough, Britts was there. She learned how to get up here after H squared were born. I have a horrible vice of smoking whenever I am stressed. I would come up here to decompress and relax. Q and I would take turns, resting and eating. Inevitably, Rachel would stay with her, while Brittany would come with me. I showed her how to jimmy the lock.

She is sitting on one of the chaise loungers I had set up there. The doctors had made a small patio off to the side. It is really nice and gives one amazing NYC views. On a clear day, you can see clear across the Hudson to Jersey.

I linger for a moment as a memory of Britts and I washes over me...

I remember that day so clearly. The day I said good-bye to us.

I blame myself for the way it ended. I wish I could have that conversation back. Sometimes, I want to say or do something- anything to change the course of events. But I can't. If I never said good-bye to you, I would not be put upon the path towards my Quinnie. I cannot keep dwelling in a past that is not present, nor my future. Sometimes, I still dream about us. I dream about how things could have been. If I am alone in bed, while Quinn is in the nursery, my mind drifts to a future I had envisioned, instead of the reality I have.

Right after we broke up, I knew I made a mistake. I wished for so many things. I wished to hold you in my arms, to spoon you, feel you beside to me. I wished to be waking up next you, to see you shake the sleep out of your brilliant blue eyes and run your fingers through your dazzling blonde hair. I wished that we could spend just one more day together, as couple, doing couplely things, like laundry, shop for groceries, or cook dinner together. I longed to see your toothbrush next to mine; see your brand of shampoo in the shower; see your pajamas on the hook next to mine; see your perfume bottle next to mine. I mourn the domesticity of a life I was never granted; the mundane tasks and the day-to-day responsibilities that we will never share.

Whenever I went to a wedding, I imagined us proudly professing our love and fidelity to one another, in front of all our family and friends. When the happy couple makes their way to the dance floor, I imagined what song we would have chosen for our first dance as wife and wife. Maybe it would be "Songbird," to remind us of that day in the choir room, when I was trying to cheer you up. It could be "Cherish/Cherish," like when The God Squad serenaded us at the Sugar Shack. Maybe even "I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)," to make us remember wearing twinsies outfits, with 80's make-up and hair, dancing in the auditorium, with glitter in the air. I think "Mine" would be the most appropriate. I know, it's the song I sang when I broke-up with you. You always knew that I could always best express myself in song. I picked it because I wanted you to know that, at that point in my life, you really were the best thing that had ever been mine. My favorite line in the song is, "And every time I look at you, it's like the first time," because that is the way you used to look at me. It is the way you now look at Rachel; it is the way I look at Quinn.

None of these dreams and wishes will ever happen because I did this to us. I know now that it was the best decision I ever made. Sure, it hurt like hell; I know that I held unto you for so much longer after that day. I didn't lie when I told you, "I will always love you the most." How can it be a lie, when it is still true, even after all this time. It is just not the same kind of love anymore, Brittany. The the love I have for you is like a perfect, smooth skipping stone. The edges of pain and sadness were washed away by Quinn's love. It the love shared among "kindred spirits" as Anne Shirley would say to her Dianna. It is a love of enduring and everlasting friendship. You are my best friend, Brittany Susan Pierce and I am as certain of this as the air the I breathe. Quinn is the one who finally let me release the angst and resentment I still carried around over you, over us.

I think about where you are now, without me, but with Rachel. I hope that you are as happy as and Quinn and I are. I don't doubt it- actually, I know that you are. I see it in the way you look at her because it is the same way I look at Quinn, like she is the sun and I am the moon. I just wanted you to find love again, after I broke your heart. When I sang "Landslide," my favorite part was the chorus:

_Well, I've been afraid of changing_

_Cause I've built my life around you _

_But time makes you bolder _

_Children get older _

_and I'm getting older too_

I didn't know that it was a break-up song until much later. Stevie Nicks wrote it in response to her break-up with Lindsey Buckingham. To me, it was acknowledging my love for you and how I needed to change my ways to prove that love to you. Now, I get it. I really had built my life around you, Brittany. When you were no longer there to hold me up, I let myself slide all the way down. Thing is, I had Quinn to pull me back up unto solid ground.

Rachel is special and wonderful. I couldn't have hoped for a better wife of life for you. Of course, in the beginning, I was caught of guard when you told me. By that time, I had already been with Quinn for awhile. I was glad you found someone else to give your heart to because loving was never a problem for you; that was my problem. It took me so long to realize that I loved you and it was only compounded by my internalized homophobia. You were there to support me, every single step of the way to acceptance of myself and the love we shared.

These are the feelings that are never far from the surface whenever I hear those songs. Our songs. They are the only things I have left of us that will never fade away. With a melody, I am swept back into a past where you & I are together. With a chorus, I recall the sweet lady kisses and the linked pinkies. With a lyric, I can close my eyes and remember it all. I can see it now.

Brittany, you and I have so much history together. You were my first love. You were the one who opened my eyes and made me see who I really am. I am forever indebted to you for giving me your love and support at a time when I needed it the most. Now, I get why you broke up with me, choosing Arty at Hurt Locker. You always were a unicorn with special powers. Britts, you knew that I needed time apart from you to figure myself out. I needed space to get my shit together and to fully embrace all the awesomeness that I am. You were still my best friend; you always will be. I think that was what has helped me thru: losing you then and losing you when I broke up with you. The knowledge that, no matter what, you would still be there for me as a friend, carried me thru the times in my life when I felt the most depressed and alone. Knowing you would always be at my side, no matter the circumstances, made me feel safe. Now, in your moment of need, I have to be that friend to you. I can hear you sobbing. I take 3 deep breaths in and out to shake off the past and re-enter an uncertain future, sauntering towards my best friend.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 2- Lady in Red**

_Suggested listening:__ One-hit wonder, "Lady in Red" by Chris DeBurgh _

I am huffing and puffing by the time I reach the rooftop of Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center. What is wrong with me? Thinking of Santana, my Santana when I had no right to say that she was mine. She isn't mine, not anymore- not for a lifetime ago, when we teenagers in love. Not when my whole world was built around her. I physically fall back unto the patio chaise as I recall her and Miss Holliday singing "Landslide" to me, yet again. Now, I finally grasp the gravity of that song and how Santana truly felt about me, as she sang her soul out. In that briefest of moments, I could see her hard shell crack: the Santana I knew was scratching out of the womb of insults and resentment. She could no longer keep it inside and she expressed it in song.

There is a radio in the corner of the make-shift patio. I recognized the tune immediately. It was Taylor Swift's Mine, but all I hear is your cover. I think the universe is trying to kill me.

All it takes is the opening chords of this song to take me back to that faithful day in the choir room. The day my life changed forever.

Lord Tubbington was more loving and caring towards me, which always put me on high alert. He only acted that way when something bad was about to happen. He had a psychic British third eye and his premonitions were always spot on. I tried to soothe my worries because you were home. Oh, how I missed you so! And everything between us felt right again. Well, they almost did. You brought back all your laundry, saying some silly excuse. We both knew it was fib; it was because of us. The long-distance was straining our relationship.

It wasn't that just that I was missing my girlfriend. I was also missing my best friend. I no longer had you by my side, to help me navigate the halls of McKinley. I didn't have your hand to hold or pinky to link with mine. Every time you would reach for my hand, it would thrill me. You were marking your territory and that simple gesture was a sign. It meant that we were "us" and you were so proud to show the world. After everything you had been through to get to this point, I never took it for granted. But now, as both my hands sat idly by as I walk through these halls without you, maybe I did take it for granted. I didn't really get that it would be these little things that I would miss the most. I kept telling myself that you were always just a text away, but you wouldn't respond lighting quick like you used to. I knew it was because you were in Louisville, adjusting to me no longer at your side and to your new life, but you seemed to be doing just fine without me. You would be too busy with cheerleading practice or your English 101 class. I understood that but it didn't sting any less. I thought you were thriving there without me, while I was left behind, not only by having to repeat my Senior year, but by you. How could you know I was feeling this way? I was missing you so much, not even Lord Tubbington could cheer me up. When you started to miss our Friday night Skype dates, I could feel you slipping further and further away from me.

I felt it in the air the instant I walked into the choir room. This room held so much of us: Landslide, Songbird, I Wanna Dance with Somebody. It wasn't the usual magic or electricity that is between us. I could see it in your face, your steeled expression. I knew that there was a reason you wanted to meet me here, but it couldn't be for what I feared the most. You wouldn't do that to me, to us.

Now, I get why you did it. You knew that you couldn't be in two places at the same time, with one foot in Louisville and one foot in Lima. Sometimes your brain can get the message but the heart is slow to the uptake. How was I supposed to feel? Losing you has been one of the most difficult things I have had to go thru, until right now.

Right now, I don't even know if my wife is alive. And I am thinking of you, Santana.

The years have faded the memories of our time together. I know that losing you made me who I am and it led me to my Rachel. I was finally able to forgive you: to let go of the anger and resentment I didn't know I still harbored, even after so much time had past. I set my soul free and, in doing so, it led me to the love of my life.

I glance down and see a bouquet of daises in the vase. Maybe this is the universe telling me something good.

Daises have always been my favorite flower. It is because when we were Girl Scouts, (you, me, Tina, and Quinn), they were the flower seeds I picked to grow. They were pretty and dainty, pure and innocent. My dad was so proud of me, tending to them everyday, watching in amazement that from a seed, such a beautiful thing could happen. When he was sick, I would bring him daises for his hospital room. Even if he was in isolation, I would draw daises and put them up so he could see them. So, it was kind of our thing, until it became mine and Rachel's thing.

I can clearly remember that Autumn day; the day I told Rachel that I loved her. I missed her so much during the tour and I knew why. My heart knew that I loved Rachel before my brain did, this time. It would swell whenever we Skyped. I loved listening to her podcasts of singing showtunes; singing anything, really. I knew that she was ready to move on from Quinn. Could I be the one that Rachel would want? Could she even feel that way about me?

I wasn't too sure. I knew how I felt the day you left; the day your were gone. It took me years to fully recover from losing you, Santana. It was about a year for you, Rachel. I knew that you were strong. I saw you through those lonely nights, when all you longed for was Quinn's embrace instead of mine. I gave you my outstretched hand to hold, when all you wanted was Quinn's hand to hold. Could that turn into me? Maybe someday you would want my hugs and my hand to hold. I knew I was getting ahead of myself. But that is how I love. I love completely and wholly. I am always all in when it comes to love. I was all in with you, Santana. I am all in now and forever with you, Rachel. I didn't even think that you could feel the same way about me. I knew that I was in love with you, Rach, and each passing day meant I was one day closer to you. I was scared at the possibility that you wouldn't reciprocate how I felt. Like I said, I love with my whole heart. I had only done that once before and I wasn't wrong with you, Santana. I knew that we both on the same page. I think that is why I was so shocked about out break-up.

All these questions were answered when I opened the door to our loft apartment. Small tea lights illuminated the room and your beautiful face. You had daises everywhere. You told me about the symbolism of daisies and how that they were the perfect flower to describe me. My heart was soaring. Then, you picked a single daisy out of the bunch and we played the game: She-loves-me; She-loves-me-not. We alternated, getting closer and closer, until we reached the last petal. I plucked it off and said: "I love you, Rachel." You enveloped me in your arms and told me the most beautiful thing my ears would ever hear: "I love you too, Brittany." It was in that instant that I got it. Rachel, you loved me too, and that was all I would ever need. When you strip away the all the trappings of our lives, that is at the crux: our love. God, do I love you Rachel, my wife, my best friend, my lover, my partner, mother of my children. I am trying to remember when was the last time I told you that. I can't remember...

Santana, you might have decimated me, but you also led me to the love of my life. In a way, loving you led me to loving Rachel. We did have an epic romance, but what I have with my wife is a thousand splendid suns and a million stars in the sky. Rachel Barbra Berry is my whole life. And I need her so much. I love her so much. I need to be with her now.

I turn around, heading towards the exit when I feel arms wrap me. These arms that feel so comfortable and warm; these arms that I know so well. The arms that I used to know like my favorite blanket to snuggle in. The arms of my first love, Santana. Just the mere action of being held by you elicits more memories of our time together.

I close my eyes and feel us swaying at the Sugar Shack. It was the first Valentine's Day that I had an official Valentine: I had you. Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would happen. We weren't that far removed from your forced outing by that douchebag, Finn Hudson. But, as always, Santana, you continued to surprise and amaze me. Being shoved out of the closet, albeit as difficult and painful as it was, allowed you to be free. Free Santana was the person I knew you could be, as you embraced all the awesomeness you are.

You did things to prove to me how much you loved me. It was almost like you were trying to make up for all the times you denied me and our love. The biggest and best thing you did was to request The God Squad to serenade me; to serenade us. You did this, to show me how much you loved me, in public. Cherished is exactly how you made me feel that night. I felt cherished all over: in my mind, my heart, and my body. Then, you asked me to be your date to Senior Prom. I couldn't believe it. I was over the moon and started to kiss you over and over again, as if my "Yes!" was insufficient.

There you were, singing on stage at our Senior Prom. You were wearing yet another red dress, just like you did at Junior prom. I remember when Kurt, Tina, and I were sitting in the home economics room as Lauren and you tried on several dresses. Lauren did look delicious, like a cream puff. But, you were delicious for all different sorts of reasons. When you came out from behind the screen, you took my breath away. The red dress hugged your curves, accentuated your bosom, and looked exquisite against your carmel skin. As I blatantly checked you out, I could feel a matching redness flush my alabaster cheeks. I could tell that you saw my reaction, which resulted in a million mega watt smile. I heard Kurt say, " Go with God, Satan...err Santana." Yup, she was a devil in a red dress, alright. But you were going to our Junior Prom with your supposed "soulmate", Dave Karofsky. Santana, you were just so scared but you were the bravest person I knew. I could not understand why you cared so much about what other people thought. They didn't matter; the only thing that mattered was that you be true to yourself and love yourself. I wanted you to embrace all the awesomeness that you are; I saw it every, single day. The trouble was trying to get you to see it in herself; to recognize the beauty that lay behind your hard exterior.

I never understood why I was the privileged one, allowed to see that side of you, Santana. I did not know why you felt the need to be so mean and hard and tough all of the time. Sometimes, I wished that you would show the side that I got to see: the kind, open-hearted, joyful, silly Santana. But then, it wouldn't be so special, I guess, because that was the Santana reserved for me alone. You do a twirl around and I am gobsmacked, staring, wishing that I was the one taking to the dance.

I kept true to my word. I didn't have a date for the Junior Prom. I didn't need one because I, Brittany Susan Pierce, would be stealing everybody else's dates. I was a ninja, seemingly dancing alone when I would move my hips and sashay around until "Bam!" I was dancing with Mike, then Sam and Mercedes. I didn't need a date nor did I want one. The one I wanted to be my date was Dave Karofsky's date.

I would steal glances over there, to where you and Dave were dancing. You looked even more breathtaking, if that was possible. I couldn't help myself until I gazed a little bit too long and I knew that I was caught. I felt a blush creep upon the apples of my cheeks as I slowly raised my blues to meet your browns. We could always talk to each without using words. At that exact moment, though, I couldn't quite get what you was telling me. You looked at me with sad, regretful eyes until they changed to eyes of love. Santana, I knew that you loved me- that you were in love with me. I don't think she knew it; that I felt the exact same way about her. Santana, you kept doubting my love for you. I looked at you, trying my best to convey, from across the crowded gymnasium, that I was in love with you too.

You must have felt it cause I could see you stop dancing with Dave and make a beeline towards me. You pulled us out of the gym and tugged me into the empty choir room, closing the door behind us.

"S... what are you doing?"

"God, B. How can you do that? Just, I can't even...Britt, I am so confused."

"I love you Santana. I love you Santana Maribel Lopez and I am in love with you too."

You just looked up at me with tear-rimmed eyes as I gathered you in my lithe, strong arms, to show you through my actions, since you did not believe my words. I held you tight as I felt tears roll down my cheeks. Why was it so incredulous that I could be in love with you? I felt like everything that we had been through had led us to this moment; that it was just simply meant to be. I did the only thing could think of doing, to prove to you that I meant it, wholeheartedly, and proudly so.

I broke away and directed you to sit on the chair that was sat in the middle of the room. It was Santana's turn to feel confused, as tears continued to roll down her cheeks. I knew what I needed to do, as I went up to the iPod docked into the small sound system in the choir room. You had explained to me how to use the Mr. Schue's iPod docking station one day after Cheerios practice, because I felt like dancing. I always felt like dancing and that was what I was going to do. If you could sing your feelings to me when talking seemed too big and scary, then I was going to do what I do best. I was going to dance to show you, through my movements, just how much I loved you.

I scrolled thru the songs till I found that the one I wanted. Mr. Schue had such an odd mixture of songs on here but I remembered one song in particular that felt appropriate. I pressed play and waited for the opening bars of the song to start:

_i've never seen you _

_l__ooking so lovely_

_as you did tonight_

_i've never seen you _

_shine so bright_

_i've never seen__so many men ask you_

_if you wanted to dance_

_looking for a little romance_

_given half the chance_

I moved my body toward you, hoping that you could get what I trying to say. I hoped that you were listening to the lyrics, as I just let my heart take over my body. I never felt more at ease as when I was dancing. I spun around to face you, to sing along to the next verse:

_i have never seen that dress_

_you're wearing_

_or the highlights in your hair_

_that catch your eyes_

_i have been blind_

_lady in red_

_is dancing with me_

_cheek to cheek_

_there's nobody here_

_it's just you and me_

_it's where i wanna be_

_and i hardly know_

_this beauty by my side_

_i'll never forget_

_the way you look tonight_

I looked straight into your dark chocolate eyes as I sang, pulling you up from the chair to dance. I pulled you in so close, wrapping my arms behind the nape of your neck, as I felt you wrap your caramel arms around my waist, resting your head upon my shoulder. The next verse began:

_i've never seen you looking so gorgeous_

_as you did tonight_

_i've never seen you shine so bright_

_you were amazing_

_i've never seen so many people_

_want to be there, by your side,_

_and when you turned to me and smile_

_you took my breath away_

_i have never had such a feeling_

_such a feeling of complete and utter love_

_as i do tonight_

_lady in red_

_is dancing with me_

_cheek to cheek_

_there's nobody here_

_it's just you and me_

_it's where i wanna be_

_well i hardly know_

_this beauty by my side_

_i'll never forget_

_the way you look tonight_

_i'll never will forget_

_the way you look_

_tonight_

_lady in red_

_lady in red_

_lady in red_

_lady in red_

_i love you_

"Really, Brittany?," you asked, incredulously.

"Why is that so hard for you to believe, San? Because for me, I have always known that you loved me. Why can't you believe me, in us, in this?"

You just closed your eyes, trying to imprint this memory in your mind. It was an important moment: the one when we declared our love for each other. We had never ever said that we loved just each other. It was just there as an undercurrent that never needed to be spoken. But this, saying that we were "in love," this was something that needed to be said.

"Brittany Susan Pierce, I love you so much that I feel like my heart is not big enough to hold all the love I have for you."

And, just like that, it was out there in the universe: Santana loves Brittany and Brittany loves Santana. This love was beyond a love shared between two best friends, but we both knew that already. You were in love with me and I was in love with you.

Flash forward to the middle of our Senior prom. And there you were, Santana, singing up on stage again, wearing yet another red dress. This difference was that this time, as you sang "Take My Breath Away" with Quinn, you were looking at me the whole time, singing it to me. I was your date, I was your girlfriend, and we were here together, in front of the whole Senior class, out and proud.

Santana, it was hard, difficult, and painful; this journey of self-acceptance. The reward at the end made it all worth it: I was here, ready and waiting for you, full of love and so proud that you made it through. All along, I had this faith in you. I believed in you, when you couldn't. I was your strength, when you were so weak. You don't care about the looks and the stares anymore. All you care about is the woman you are holding in your arms, looking up into my ocean blue eyes, and knowing that we were worth it. All of it was worth it, San.

I feel it right now, in this moment, where the past keeps interrupting my present.

I don't mean to. I can't. I shouldn't, but I want to so much.

I look at you, straight into those dark chocolate eyes, trying to read what you are feeling, Santana. Holding me like this, what you are thinking of? Are you remembering us? Are you really here just to comfort me? What does this simple action mean?

I just react.

I kiss you.

The instant it happens

I know that it wrong.

So very wrong.

In a nanosecond

I am about to

push you away...

But

you don't

push away either

You hold me tighter...

and you

you kiss me back

Then we push away

a full arms length away

I am speechless

you look dumbstruck

I cry in earnest

for the umpteenth time

in several hours

I sprint

to the exit of the roof

I run away from you

and run toward my wife

hoping

praying

pleading

to

the

heavens

above

that

she

isn't

gone


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's note: This chapter is rated M because of content. Please be advised. Thanks for reading! _

_**Chapter 3- I Thought She Knew**_

_Suggested listening: The last song from __NSync's album, No Strings Attached, "I Thought She Knew" _

I am sitting in the backseat of Sam's car, wrapped up in memories of you. My mind was given a small reprieve, after talking with my wife. My wife, I remind myself. I shouldn't be thinking about you, Rachel, but how can I not? We all might lose you; I might lose you again. Or perhaps it was that I was really losing you for the first time because you had lost me first.

I am trying to remember THE day; the day when it all fell apart. Because for so long, it was you, Rachel. I saw you that first day of Freshman year, thru the sea of McKinley students and something in me shifted. It was as if I wasn't really living until that moment. All that sappy shit people say when they talk about love at first sight, I felt it. It was something I was wholly unprepared for. I remember taking a step back, as if I could rewind and erase what I just saw. But why would I want to do that? You were so breathtaking; I could feel my breath being carried away by you. I looked at you from afar, not even knowing your name yet. I knew that I was forever changed in that instant. The thing is that you didn't know that; how could you know? Once I laid eyes on Rachel Barbra Berry, my life would never be the same. I often wondered what was her first impression of me. I don't think I have ever actually asked her. Was it as life-altering as mine? Was it a revelation? Or was I just another somebody in the crowd. I knew it. Rachel was supposed to be my once in a lifetime, my happy ending come true. I was so sure of it, as sure as the air that I breathe. I guess I should have told her that but I thought she knew. The thing is, though, is that Rachel wasn't. It was Santana who was "the one."

She said I took her for granted which is the furthest thing from the truth. If anything, I overcompensated my love because of what happened. Never, ever did I take you, Rachel, and what we had for granted. I thought she knew that my world revolved around her. Rachel should have known that my heart burned for her alone. It was my fault. I did this to us. All I had to do was look in the mirror and see that I was the one to blame. Because if I truly did believe in our love and believed in us, we never would have broken up. There were just so many words left unspoken between us. The seven seas are not enough to fill the void of words left unsaid. I didn't even need words. I just had to look at you and we both knew it was over. Just like that...

But I wished that I could have told you, Rachel. I would have told you how sorry I was and how much I loved you. Actually, I did tell you those things and you told them back to me. So, how could we love each other, even be in love with each other, and still break-up? I thought you knew all of that and I was hoping you had the answer. But, I guess that if you did, we would probably still be together. It is crazy to think that one thing can completely change your entire world. Breaking up with you was my fault. I broke us when I was broken. I didn't know how to fix me, let alone how to fix us. I honestly don't know what I could have done differently. I have thought it over so many times, in every which way, but the solution I always came up with was this: leaving you and leaving us. All the rationalizations, I believed in them, instead of believing in us. But what did you expect me to do? I was hurting too.

Rachel, you had already been cast in the off-off-broadway revival of Rent, cast in Shelby's role as the ex-girlfriend turned lesbian. They were in talks to bring it back on The Great White Way, as people in the biz say. By then, I was in Shelby's life because of Beth. Puck was also back in my life, as he is Beth's father. We were our own nuclear unit: you with your birth mother, Shelby as Beth's mom and me, as Beth's biological mother. Shelby's business of broadway "day care" and pre-school was thriving. Beth was kind of the first student and now she was in 1st grade. I loved my little girl so much. She thought that it was awesome to have so many people who loved her. She would say she had 2 mommies, 1 daddy and 1 big sister. Most kids were lucky if that had one parent. Beth essentially had 4 parents and we all had so much love to shower our little girl with.

Santana was making plans to join me at Yale for medical school the following September. Brittany had already completed all of her credits at Julliard and was currently on Beyonce's world tour. Santana and her never got back together, even though we all hoped that they would. I knew that Brittana were still hung up on each other, even after all this time. It's just that timing is a bitch and it never matched up again for the two of you. We were looking forward to seeing Brittany in May, when we would all graduate. Tina was a junior at Julliard, along with Blaine. Kurt was with you Rachel, at NYADA. Arty was a junior at your alma mater, Columbia, babe. Everything was perfect. It was all a little too perfect.

It was just that one night. The night my world went black; the night I was raped. When he violated me, he violated the sanctity of us, too. Lars roofied my drink and date raped me. He took a piece of my soul that I will never, ever get back. Apparently, he took the piece that was tethered to you. I died that night, a thousand times over. The thing that kept me going was thinking of you and how much I loved you. Maybe that was what tainted us. Because thinking of you and our love made me remember something I never wanted to remember again. It is not your fault, nor is it mine. It is his. He took all of my power, strength, and love away and left me empty, barren, and bare. I was so very broken, splintered into slivers of myself. And you tried your best to make me whole again. I knew it; I felt it. I wanted to be whole again so badly, if not for me, but for you, Rachel. I just couldn't get it together.

I was thrust into a deep depression a few weeks after it happened. I was so ashamed that it happened to me, that I "let it" happen. I knew that all these thoughts were ridiculous, but I couldn't stop them from coming. How could someone as smart as me allow this to happen to myself? You were amazing from the beginning. You could almost anticipate what I needed before I could even ask, that was how connected we were. But it was like I was in a canoe with only one oar and you were on the shore, encouraging me to come back towards you. Each day, I would row closer and closer to you, only to have a wave of shame and darkness hold me back. The days of wanting to come back to you were fewer and far between. Yet, you still stood by my side, not pushing me, just being there with me. I just didn't want to make you have to go through it with me: the dirty, ugly parts of me. I was too scared to remember; all I wanted to do was forget. I believed that if I could just forget that night, we could go back to the way we were. What an idyllic thought! We could be happy again...No! We could even happier than we were, if only that night didn't exist. If only I never met Lars; if only I didn't go to his apartment that night; if only I refused that glass of red wine.

I started to live in that life: where it never happened. I rowed my way back to you and you took me back in. It was like it was perfect. The key word is "like." It was the farthest thing from perfect but I just wanted to feel close to you again. I pushed you away so many times and I knew that it hurt you every single time. I wanted to gather you up in my arms and carry us away from that life of disappointment, shame, and resentment. I wanted to take us to a place where our love would survive and thrive. Rachel, you thought you had finally done it; that I had a break-thru. And, maybe I did, just not the one you were hoping and expecting.

I was initiating all of the physical contact between us. We hadn't made love since the incident and that was months and months ago. Again, you never pushed me, but I could tell that you missed me- that you missed us. And I really wanted to so badly, my heart did. I just didn't know if I could mentally and physically handle it. It was all I talked about in therapy: how much I wanted to make love to my girlfriend, but all I could think was that he was the last one to see me naked and vulnerable. The void in my heart that he took away from me will never be filled. There will always be a missing piece, right next to the one reserved for you. That night changed me forever. It also changed you forever. He took away so much me from me and now he was taking my love for you away. I needed to grab a hold of myself before I lost you.

I was able to make love to you and I remembered how amazing your body feels and how wonderful you make me feel. I just couldn't let you make love to me. I was never more ashamed of myself: naked and underneath you, because all I could see was him. I knew that it was you and your hands and your voice. But I couldn't stop the thoughts in my head and I just couldn't let you do what I wanted so much. You thought you did something wrong and you did absolutely nothing wrong. You wanted to show me how much you loved me, how much you missed me, how you adored me. I knew all of those things were true but you wanted to physically show your love for me and I wouldn't let you. Rachel, I knew that was what broke you, when I dissolved in your arms in the throes of lovemaking. How could I expect you to want me after that debacle?

I thought I was being the bigger person, biting the bullet, not postponing the inevitable. The thing is that I didn't really give you a choice. I broke up with you because I wanted to break-up with myself. I didn't want to keep dragging you down with me. I needed to separate from you because I didn't want to keep disappointing you. I was tired of the way you looked at me: full of love and concern, which I didn't deserve. I was so unlovable, I didn't know what you saw in me. I hated myself, who I had become, what he made me become. He turned me into somebody I didn't recognize anymore. He took the best part of me that night- the part that was your Quinn, your love. I was no longer that Quinn; I couldn't be anymore. He tainted us by ruining me. He took us away when he pushed my skirt up and forced himself on me, while I was passing in and out of consciousness.

Lars was the TA in my Baroque Period art history class. It was our spring semester of our Senior year and everything was perfect, until it wasn't. If that one night could be wiped clean from of my memory, I am certain that it would be you, instead of Santana. Lars and I started to hang out, because (as always) I was one of the brilliant students in the class, already accepted to Yale's Ph.D program. He was in his second year and we got along fabulously. He was always flirty with me; heck, I even flirted back at him. Maybe I was leading him on, but he knew about you, because you were all I talked about. I thought about proposing to you, even, but you didn't know that back then. I think that semester, we were our happiest ever; that one night was the game changer. The night he took my innocence away. Well, I wasn't so innocent but I did believe in the best of people; at the heart of each person is goodness. He took away my faith in people and my faith in myself.

I was blindsided by Lars and had no chance in hell. It was all pre-meditated. Thankfully (maybe) I didn't realize what was happening until he was on top of me. Of course, I had sex with boys. I mean that was how Beth happened. But I could hear him yelling and grunting that he was "straightening me out" and showing me "what a only a man can do." That is why I went where I went. Of course, I my mind would drift to you. Saying it was the worst night of my life was putting it mildly. I died that night. When he rolled off of me, I got up and staggered out of his bedroom, he didn't care. Lars probably thought the drug would make me forget, as if that was possible. He had a smug look, as if "it" worked. I went straight to the Yale campus police and they took me to the ER. That was where you found me, after they had completed the rape kit. I don't even know if he used a condom. I am guessing that he didn't. Lars was charged with one count of sexual assault and pleaded not guilty. He was sentenced to 12 years. After the trial, I never saw him again.

Going thru the whole ordeal: the line-up, the court drama, the trial, you were with me everyday. Rachel, you were my strength when I had none. Those weeks and months were a haze and I was barely keeping it together. Thankfully, I did have evidence on my side, with the rape kit and the date rape drug in my system. Lars couldn't mount a defense to the indisputable exhibits. I still had to tell my side of the story and I had sit thru him telling the court that, "I wanted it" and "I am the best lay you have ever had, Fabray." His true colors came out while he was on the stand. He planned on getting me in bed from the moment he met me. It turns out that I wasn't the first woman he date raped. My testimony encouraged 3 other victims to come forward. That swarmy bastard bragged on and on how he bagged such hot chicks. Apparently, I was the trophy: the gay one. His homophobic rant even disgusted his own defense attorney.

Once it was all over, I thought I could just pick up where we left off. I assumed I could just press "play" on the life I had paused. By then, we had all graduated. I was in the middle of my fall semester of my Art History Ph.D program at Yale. I refused to take the semester off. I couldn't let him "win" and take more of life away from me. Santana had started medical school and moved in with me, which made you glad that I wouldn't be alone all the time. Brittany was back on tour and Rent was advanced to off-Broadway with serious talks of bringing it back on Broadway in the spring. Everyone's lives moved forward, they had to. I did too, at least academically. I thrust myself into this subject that I loved. From the outside, I looked like I was doing okay. Being in the Cheerios and hiding who I was for so long gave me the skills I needed to pretend. I was good at presenting a well-adjusted person, while I was dying inside. Rachel, I know that you saw thru my front, but what could you really do? Even Santana knew it; she could see my tells and signs- after all, she also had a front seat to that Quinn. I was meaner and colder; I lost the light behind my eyes and the warmth in my heart. My heart still did beat and bleed for you- I still did love you so very much, Rachel. But what could I expect? How could I expect you to save me when I didn't want to be saved? I didn't want any more pity or help. I was so very tired to living separate lives that I refused to intersect. There was the brainiac Quinn at Yale, girlfriend Quinn, and the scariest of all, despondent Quinn. She was the one who was winning the battle for domination, despite my best efforts. She was the one who decided to break up with you, Rachel. The smaller, weaker part of me couldn't escape the pummels of hatred and hopelessness of this Quinn. Girlfriend Quinn tried to claw and scratch out from under her grip, but it was no use. I could see the toll I was taking on you. I wanted to set you free from obligations because that was how I felt to you. I was someone you had to take care of because I couldn't and wouldn't take care of myself. I saw the love dimming in your eyes, overtaken by pity, disappointment, and sadness. You would never tell me that your love was diminishing, I could feel it. So, I believed I was doing what was best for both of us. You deserved to be with someone whole, not me, fractured in a million pieces. You deserved so much more and better that I could give you. I was being selfish and I was holding you back. Maybe I believed by letting go of us and setting you free, I could also be free.

It was raining that day, just like today. You had set your things down on the table. You even brought me my favorite yellow tulips. You told me that they made you think of me and they made you smile. I did smile when I saw them and when I saw you in your raincoat and plaid wellies, shaking the rain out of your hair. I still remember how breathtaking your looked before I broke your heart. You still believed in me; you still believed in us. And I about to steal that away from you. Maybe I was being selfish; l was definitely being stupid. I had rehearsed what I wanted to say to you all day long. I waited expectantly for you to come home. I knew what I had to do, but I couldn't, at least not right away. I was filled with love for you and I wanted to feel you, one last time.

I helped you out of your raincoat and embraced you strong in my arms. You could tell that something was amiss, but I just kissed your worries away. I rarely initiated intimate physical contact between us anymore and I could feel you come alive beneath my kiss. I could feel you unfurl your stress and I could feel myself awaken within you. I knew that our love was strong, Rachel. I just wish that it was strong enough. It was the one thing that kept me going through all of this.

We kissed forever and forever standing still in time. If only we could exist in a vacuum, where the grains of sand in the hourglass stopped flowing, I think I could be okay. All I would need is you and all you would need is me. In that moment, I felt happy- the happiest I had felt in forever, as I led you to our bedroom. You let me dictate the pace and I took my time. I knew that this would be our last time together and I wanted to make awesome memories that I could soothe both of us. Rach, I think you were just so overjoyed in my actions, in my touches and smiles. You even told me that you could see the light back in my eyes; that you could feel the warmth in my embrace. You could see the love I had for you seeping out of my body, enveloping you like a warm blanket. It was all true because that was exactly what I was doing. I was making love to you for the last time. The difficult part was allowing you to make love to me. We had come close before, but I always made you stop. This time, I wasn't going to stop you. No matter what, I wanted to give you my all, this one last time. It was scary and felt like our first time again, with tentative touches and whispered assurances. It wasn't our first time but it was our last time together. We held each other afterwards, legs tangled, as I stroked your hair, you could tell. You knew. I knew. And we both cried ourselves to sleep, not saying a word. I left you in the morning. I didn't want to ruin the perfection of the night. I already had a plan in place. I didn't see you again, not until the paramedics were taking me to the ER, after my failed suicide attempt.

After I broke-up with you, I tried to kill myself. I left a note and everything. I took all my anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sedatives right after you left our apartment crying. I placed the letter addressed to you on your side of the bed, swallowed all of the pills, and just waited to fall into forever slumber. But you sent Santana to check on me. In your despair, you knew that I was hurting too. She saved my life, just in time. Much later, Santana told me she had a feeling that I was up to something. She said it was the way I was acting: all of a sudden, being happy, giving prized possessions away, not making immediate future plans- these were all signs. Obviously, she would know because she was a volunteer at the Trevor Project's suicide hotline. When Rachel called her, Santana dropped everything and called Yale campus police. As I was slipping away, I could here them outside our door, banging and yelling at me to open it. But, I didn't want to live anymore; not like that and not without you. They rammed the door in and took me away in a blur. Rachel, you were there and you reached for my hand as they rushed me away. Feeling your hand in mind, after everything I did to us, that was what gave me strength and hope when I needed it the most.

In the end, that night changed us forever in the right way. Because I have my Santana and you have your Brittany, and we still have each other. It is just not in the way we thought we would. We have essentially swapped partners. So, I still get a tiny piece of you, because you once loved me the way that you love Brittany, and Brittany now loves you. You always did love me the most and I did love you the most, too. It just wasn't a "you & I forever" kind of love. Well, I thought it was. Lightening struck me twice and I am fortunate to have known your love and to have the love of my wife. But that infinitesimal ribbon of our love still remains, as it always will, because that kind of love never dies.

"Quinn, we are here," Sam says after he parks his car in the visitor parking spot.

"You okay, Q?" Tina asks, full of concern.

I wipe the few tears that escape my eyes. I need to get it together for Barby and Noah's sake.

"Yeah, Tina, I'll be right behind you..." I answer as I take a couple of deep breaths to compose myself, before I follow them into the elevator. Tina takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

"I sure hope that San was able to find Britt." she says to us.

"I am sure she has by now, Tina. I need to bring the kids back over the her and Rachel."

Just as I say that, the elevator opens to our floor. I walk to the front door of our home and enter the key. Barby opens the door before I can even turn it.

"Your mom and the baby are alive." I tell her, before she collapses in my arms.


	12. Chapter 12-14

**Chapter 4: By Your Side**

_Suggested listening: Sade, "By Your Side"_

I can feel someone holding my left hand. I can tell that I am wearing a ring on my left ring finger. I can hear that person crying uncontrollably. I can hear the breaths in between the sobs. There is a knock on the door. It is a doctor, wait it is two doctors. They are introducing themselves to the person holding my hand. Lisa is there, to talk about the baby. Dr. Brooke Novick was the other ob-gyn who helped Santana in the OR. I don't really understand what they are saying. I can feel this person squeezing my hand tightly as they speak. Then, I hear her speak: "Can I talk to her?" They tell her that yes, it has been shown that people can hear, even in an unconscious state. They tell her that they will come back to check on me in a little bit. One of the doctors asks for Santana and you tell her that she is up on the roof. Soon, I hear the click of heels, the opening of the door, and it shutting behind them.

I can hear the voice speaking, softly at first:

"Oh, baby. I need you to wake up, okay? You need to meet our little girl, Charlotte. I haven't seen her yet. Santana said she is small but a fighter. So, you need to fight your way back- back to me, Barby, Noah, Tristan, and our baby girl. Please, Rachel. I love you so much. You cannot leave me. Please..."

I want to reach out to her, to soothe and comfort her. I want to tell her I can hear her, that I am desperately fighting, but I cannot wake myself up. I can hear her crying again. I will my fingertips to move- to show her that I heard her words. I can feel her hand in mine and wiggle my fingers ever so slightly once, then twice. She kisses my hand and I can feel her release my hand, saying, "I'll be right back, my love." I can hear footstep run to the door.

A moment later, I can hear Brittany with Santana and Quinn. I can hear her relay what just happened to them. I can hear more crying and feel more hand holding. Santana speaks: "Well, that is a good sign, Britts. That means that she heard what you said and she is still here. Hopefully, she will wake up soon."

I can feel a weird tension in the air. I am confused. Why is Brittany the one by my side? How come it is not Quinn? Who are all those names she said? Why was she telling me she loved me? I love Quinn. Brittany is with Santana. I have such a headache.

Quinn speaks: "Britt, Barby and Noah are in the waiting room. I can wait here with Rachel and you can talk to them before you come in."

"That sounds like a good plan, Quinn. I am going to go to the NICU to check on the baby. Do you have a name for her yet, Brittany?" Santana asks.

"We just decided on a name last week. Her name is Charlotte," Brittany answers.

Santana responds: "Hmm, Charlie, huh? It is adorable, Britts. Do you want to come with me to the NICU to meet her?"

"I need to see Barby and Noah first. Just wait in the NICU for me?" she says.

"I'll be here with her, Britt." Quinn says, as I feel her take my hand in her hand, giving a light squeeze. I move my fingers for her and they all see it. I can tell by their reactions.

"I am going to talk to Dr. Novick and update her on Rachel's progress. See you in the NICU, B." Santana says as she leaves the room.

Now, I was alone with Quinn and she is crying. First, Brittany was crying uncontrollably and now Quinn is.

I have so questions. Why am I not with Quinn? Why am I with Brittany? Then, Quinn speaks:

"Rachel Barbra Berry, you listen to me. You have to wake up. Brittany and the kids need you. All of us need you...I need you. C'mon, sweetie. You have so many people here that love you. You need to meet your baby girl. I called your Dads and Shelby. They should all be here soon."

With that, Shelby entered the room. In a flurry, I can feel her rush to my other side and embrace me.

"Ohhh, Rachel! Quinn, what's going on? How is the baby?" Shelby asks.

"Well, Rachel was just transferred from the recovery room. According to Santana, she should be coming out of the anesthesia soon. The baby, Charlotte is in the NICU. Santana is over there now, checking on her. Brittany is in the waiting room, talking to Barby and Noah, before going to the NICU to see the baby. Is Beth with you?"

"Nope, she got a last minute audition. She will head over here as soon as she is done. God, Quinn, she looks so pale," Shelby says with concern.

Quinn answers, "Well, she did lose a lot of blood. Rach had a placental abruption, which caused her to delivery early. I am sure she got blood transfusions in the OR."

"Well, as soon as I get an update from Santana, I am going to the blood donation center. She might need more blood,"Shelby says before re-directing her attention to me.

I can feel Shelby squeeze my right hand and Quinn squeeze my left hand. I can hear them praying over my body. I join in the prayer before the medication overpowers me and I fall back into a deep slumber.

I don't know how long I have been out. I can someone call my name. It is Santana talking to me.

"Rachel. Rachel, sweetie. If you can hear me, can you squeeze my hand?" I hear Santana ask me.

I squeeze her hand as hard as I can. It must have been hard because I can hear her laughing at me.

"Whoa, Berry. Super human strength. Okay. Can you open your eyes for me? Just try, Rach." Santana asks.

I can hear Brittany plead, "Please, baby, please open your eyes for me."

I need to wake up. I need to figure out what is going on. I tell myself, "Wake up, Rachel!"

But nothing is happening. I open my eyes and all I see is blackness. I keep trying and all I can hear is Brittany crying.

Then I hear another person speak, "It's okay mom, mama will wake up soon." And another voice, "Yeah, mom. Everything will be okay, right? It will be, right, Auntie Tana"

Santana answers the young boy, "Yeah, Noah, your mama is doing just fine. Sometimes, it takes some people longer to wake up. But everything else is normal and she is even moving her fingers and toes. These are all good signs. Now, we just have to wait."

"Mom, can we go and meet the baby? Barby and I really want to meet her," the young boy asks Brittany.

"Well, I don't know what the visiting policy is. Why don't you go with your Grandpas and get some ice cream in the cafeteria. Maybe when you get back, we can go over to the NICU."

I can feel him kiss the side of my cheek, someone squeezing my right hand and another kiss on the top of my head.

"We'll be right back, sweetie. Hang in there, okay, " I hear one of my dads say.

I hear several footsteps and the door open and close behind them.

"Be straight with me, Santana. Why isn't she awake yet? It's been hours. Something's wrong that you aren't telling me. Please, San, just tell me...whatever it is." Brittany says.

"I am being honest, Brittany, I promise. Every person reacts to the anesthesia differently. It just seems to be taking longer to wear off for Rachel. There is no need to worry, just yet, okay? I am going to ask Lisa if the kids can at least see their sister. You stay here with Quinn. Shelby, you wanted to see your granddaughter, right?" Santana says.

I hear the door open and close again. It is silent. No more crying. All I hear is the monitor beeping before I succumb again to sleep.

"It has been 24 hours, San. Something is wrong," I hear Brittany say to Santana.

I hear Santana sigh before responding, "Britts, I know you don't want to hear this, but there is nothing wrong. Her vital signs are all stable. We just need to be patient and wait for Rachel to come back to us. And she will. She has to much to come back to."

I can tell that Santana is trying to put a positive spin on this situation, but even I can tell that she is frustrated. I know that she over by Brittany's side, comforting her. I wiggle my fingers to let them know that I heard what Santana just said.

"See, Britt, Berry heard me. She agrees with me. She will come back to you, soon."

I can hear Brittany crying for the umpteenth time. I can tell that Santana leaves my bedside to console her.

"I can't lose her. I just can't," she chokes out through sobs.

"Hey, now. C'mon B. Rach isn't going anywhere. All her numbers look good. The neurologist checked her over and said that everything is normal. I know that you keep hearing that, but, right now, everything is normal. She will wake up soon, Britts. She has to. She will for you, Barby, Noah, Tristan and Charlotte. Trust me, okay. If I know Rachel like I do, I bet she is clawing and fighting her way back to us. We just have to be patient."

I am, Santana. I keep trying and nothing happens. I try again as they continue to talk over me.

"Okay, San. I just don't think I can handle much more. The baby is doing better, but Lisa says she is still critical. I think I need to see Tristan. He is outside with Quinn."

Santana answers, "No worries, Britts. I will stay here with Rachel. You go and take a break, okay?"

Brittany turns on her heels and walks out the door. The next thing I feel is Santana, performing another exam on me.

"You hear me, Berry? Don't make a liar out of me. I just promised your wife that you would be coming back to her and your kids. You need to quit this nonsense right now and wake up!"

Wife? Brittany is my wife!

"Santana? What are you doing?" I hear Quinn ask her.

"What? Just doing what I do best; trying to get a rise out of her. To make her pissed off enough to prove me right."

"Well, I guess that is one approach. And you are right, it was effective all through high school. At this point, let's try everything, right?" Quinn says.

"Will you stay here with her? I am going to the NICU to check-in with Lisa. Brittany is with Tristan, right?"

"Yeah, she is in the waiting room. Go on, I want to talk to Rachel."

I can hear Santana kiss Quinn. "I am so scared, babe. What if she doesn't wake up?" Quinn asks.

"She will, baby. She has to. She will, soon. Who has Holden and Harper?"

"They are still with Tina and Mike. She said they did well overnight. I told her that we would swing by and pick them up this afternoon," Quinn answers Santana.

"I guess our babies had their first sleepover, huh?" she says jokingly. "Well, I am going to go talk to Lise. Hopefully, the baby is doing okay."

Santana kisses Quinn one more time, then she leaves the room.

So, Quinn and Santana are together? They have babies together!? Well, that must mean they are married. I am married to Brittany. We have 4 children together. What the fuck is going on? How come I cannot remember anything? The last thing I remember, I am still Quinn's girlfriend.

I can hear a chair being pulled closer and know that Quinn is sitting next to me. It is still and quiet in my room. I feel Quinn pick up my hand and place it against her cheek.

She says, through fresh tears,"Rachel, honey, you need to wake up, okay? I am not leaving your side until you do. I promise you. You never left my side after my suicide attempt and I will never leave you. I stayed here and you need to stay too. I will not let go of your hand. I am right here, waiting for you. So, please, Rach, just wake up."

That is all the motivation I need. I try one more time to open my eyes. This time it works. I slowly open my eyes and adjust to the overhead lights. I brush my fingers across Quinn's cheek to make her look at me.

"RACHEL! Sweetie! Oh, thank God!" Quinn exclaims before she rushes to me and starts hugging me, kissing my cheek tenderly. "You are awake! Finally! You had us all scared, Rach. Don't you ever do that again, you hear me? I need to go get Santana."

Quinn reaches over me to grab the call light. Within seconds, a nurse enters the room. I can see her smile in relief. "I'll page Dr. Lopez and Dr. Novick, okay?" She says before stepping out. In no time, Santana arrives, looking like she sprinted all the way back here, with (I am assuming) Dr. Novick in tow. They come to my bedside.

Santana says, "Welcome back, Rachel."

**Chapter 5- If Your Gone **

_Suggested listening: From my favorite Matchbox 20 album, Mad Season, "If Your Gone" _

"Shhhh, Tristan. It's okay, baby boy." I whisper to my son. He is a sensitive boy. He can tell that I am on edge. I can tell that he is missing his mother. He buries his head in my blonde hair and I continue to rock him. These past 24 hours have been insane. I take a deep breath and do a mental inventory:

Tristan: on my hip

Barby & Noah: with their granddads

Charlotte: stable condition in the NICU

Rachel: still unconscious, but moving fingers and toes

Santana: being superdoctor; hasn't brought up the kiss, yet

Me: a fucking mess

Yup, that sounds about right.

I glance down at Tristan and see that he is sound asleep. I am exhausted, wishing that I could sleep as soundly. I have been awake for over 24 hours, keeping a vigil at Rach's bedside. I took Tristan with me into the Chapel. I went to church every Sunday growing up. Rachel and I raised our kids with both Jewish and Catholic traditions. I found solace in this solemn place. I take a seat and surround myself in the silence.

I cannot believe that I kissed Santana. Like, I actually, on the lips, for real, kissed her. What was I thinking? Well, I guess that I wasn't thinking at all and that is the point. If I am being honest, I was thinking of San, reliving twenty-year old high school memories. Arrrugh! So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Brittany. Now, Santana would hate me to ever say the word stupid and my name in the same breath, but I think it is highly appropriate in this situation. I did a very stupid thing, kissing her, when my wife is lying in a hospital bed and our daughter in lying in an incubator.

I can feel Tris move in my arms. I look down at him and remember what joy he has brought into our lives. Barby and Noah had been asking for a baby brother or sister for so long and we finally had the perfect time. Your whole pregnancy had been a breeze, just like mine were. When our son was born, it was another physical reminder of our love. We were all over-the-moon and in love with our little guy, who had a set of lungs on him that left no doubt who his mother was. Rachel and I were here 18 months ago, welcoming our son into the world. Now, I was the one welcoming our precious little daughter, who still had no name. I smile, as I remember that conversation, during pillow talk last week.

"So, babe, do you have any names in mind for the baby?" I asked my wife.

"Well, I was thinking of Charlotte Tina, since Tina is going to be her godmother."

"Charlotte Tina Pierceberry. I think I like the sound of that. Tina is going to be thrilled!"

I put my hand over your swelling stomach and say, "So, what do think, baby girl? How do you like that name? Charlotte Tina?" Rachel puts her hand over mine and we both feel the baby kick. We both laugh and I lean in to kiss her.

"Thanks, baby girl for the input. It has been noted, Charlie."

Rachel smiles, saying, "I love that. We can call her Charlie. I love boys' names for girls."

"Me too, Rach, me too. Let's get my girls in bed," I tell her, as she moves into smaller spoon position. I spoon my wife, wrapping my arms around her and her belly, dreamily wondering how did I get so lucky to have this life.

That was just last week. What a difference from that to right now. God, I miss my wife so much. I hear the door to the chapel open.

"Britt?" Tina asks.

"Hey Tina." I reply as she sits next to me, with Katy on her hip, also sleeping.

"I finally found you in this hospital. Santana told me you would either be here or up on the roof. I thought you might be here, to pray for Rachel and the baby."

"Her name is Charlotte. Charlotte Tina Pierceberry," I tell Tina. She looks at me with bright eyes.

"Really, Britt? You are naming her after me?"

"Well, it is tradition to name our kids after there godparents, so, if you and Mike would do Rachel and I the honour..."

"Yes! Of course, Britt. It would be my honour. Thank you so much."

She gives me a peck on the cheek and we just sit in silence for a moment.

"Do you remember that Sunday, when we fell asleep at Church..." Tina started.

"And the nuns made us kneel and say the whole Rosary every day after school for a whole week?" I answer her with a laugh. I love how I can always rely on Tina for a moment of escape.

"Remember how we would take turns napping so that we could keep each other upright?"

"Yeah, and pious Quinn was the one leading the Rosary in front of us. She never knew that we all kept falling asleep behind her."

We both had a good chuckle remembering our early years. We were quite a foursome.

"Rach, she is gonna be okay, Britt. She will. Just give her time."

Any ounce of strength I had left was taken away by that simple statement and I crumbled into Tina's side. I didn't know how I could even cry anymore. After being friends for almost 30 years, we instinctively knew what each other needed. Tina knew that I needed silence. She gave me the space and support I needed with an embrace, as she pulled me into her side.

"T, do you remember the day I told you about Rachel and me?"

After a moment, Tina responded: "Yeah, B. I was so shocked. I guess I just always thought that you and Santana would find your way back to each other. But Santana and Quinn had gotten together, which did surprise me. We didn't know about their drunken hook-up during the failed Valentine's Day wedding of Emma and Mr. Schue. Your coupling took me completely by surprise. But after the initial shock wore off and I saw the two of you together, I got it. Just like I got Santana and Quinn. Just like Mike and I, Blaine and Kurt, Arty and Marly, Sam and Mercedes, Jake and Kitty. You two were the ones who were supposed to be together."

I respond to Tina, "You know, I felt the same way. Actually, our whole friendship after McKinley surprised me. I mean, I got to know Rachel more when her and Quinn were together, but we were surface friends. It wasn't until I danced in NYADA's Spring Showcase that we got to know each other. It was Quinn's idea that I audition for the showcase, so that we could get to know each other more. I found that Rachel had changed a lot since high school, in a good way. I mean, we all grew up. And I discovered that I did like Rachel. She was warm and funny. I got to know her outside of the context of being Quinn's girlfriend."

"So, sexy times happened when?" Tina asks with a smirk.

"Ha! Obviously, it was long after her and Quinn broke up. I realized I had feelings for Rachel while I was on tour with Queen Bey. I just missed her so much and I couldn't figure out why I would look forward to our Skype dates. One day, it just dawned on me, that I was in love with her. I was shocked myself. I never thought this would happened. Remember, I moved in with her after their break-up, to help her through it. I didn't think that I would fall in love with her."

"Oh, yeah, that's right, Britt. So, you are saying that it was the proximity?"

"Well, Tina, we did grow closer those 6 months. We helped each other. By helping her process her break-up with Quinn, it forced me to deal with my unresolved feelings surrounding my break-up with Santana."

"Okay. I see what you are saying. It was the 6 months apart that made you realized that you loved Rachel, right?"

"Exactly, Tina. We grew closer in those 6 months of living together, but fell in love the 6 months we were apart. We would set up times to Skype and would text, Instagram and Facebook book each other all the time. I could see that she was doing okay with me gone and she could see that I was having the time of my life. But, despite the adventure, I kept wishing she was with me, touring the whole world. It was because Rachel made everything sparkle. Without knowing it, my world was shrinking and Rachel was filling it up. By the last month, we were both counting down the days till I would be home."

"But, she didn't know how you felt, huh?"

"That's right, Tina. I wanted to tell her in person. I was uncertain of her feelings. I just assumed that it was all me, feeling this way, loving her. I didn't know she felt the exact same way about me. She is such a romantic. Remember how she set up the whole loft with candles and daisies? It was so perfect. Everything about that day was perfect. And now, today? Today is the opposite of that day. I need my wife so much, Tina! You know, I cannot remember the last thing I said to her? I cannot remember the last time I told her that I loved her?"

"Shhhh, Brittany. Rachel knows how much you love her; she does."

Tina hugs me again and again we enjoy the silence of Chapel. I gently lay my son on the bench beside me and I kneel down. Tina does the same thing with Katy and she kneels down beside me. We both close our eyes and pray. Pray those prayers the nuns taught us. Pray those things that are locked deep in our hearts. I feel her reach over and grab my hand and we pray together. I look behind us and see our babies fast asleep.

"I am so lucky to have you in my life, Tina Cohen-Chang. I love you."

"Me too, Britt. I love you too. I am going to go back to the waiting room. I left Mike and Shelby in the waiting room with Holden and Harper. I'll be sure to tell the Barby and Noah you are here."

"Thanks so much, T. See you in a bit."

Tina swoops up her baby girl and leaves me in the sanctuary of silence. I sit back down and stare at our boy. He was so much like you already, Rachel. His babbling was so melodic and he had your dark hair. He had my blue eyes. Apparently, all of our kids had eyes like mine. Well, it was too early to tell with Charlotte. I wonder who she will be like. Barby could dance like me and Noah could sing, like you. Maybe Charlotte will be a triple threat: a singer, dancer, actress. Maybe she will hate performing and love soccer and science. Whatever she will be, I just hope and pray that you will be able to see it.

I remember the night I inseminated you. Since this was our 4th attempt, we had the whole thing down to a science. Barby was having a sleepover with Beth and Noah was staying overnight at Jake and Kitty's home. Tristan was fast asleep in the nursery. I set up a relaxing bath for us. It was one of our favorite things to do together- letting the warm lavender milk bath carry our stress and worries behind. As we sunk into the water, I could feel your body relax into mine. It was rare that we had a night to ourselves. Albeit, we had a purpose with that night, but we enjoyed it being just us. I always loved to wash you: to clean your body and relax your mind; to feel your skin, muscles, and hair beneath my hands. I knew how much you enjoyed it and this night was all about you. We both believed that the environment surrounding us greatly influenced conception. Setting a warm, calm, loving atmosphere would help us make a baby. It worked the previous three times.

After the bath, I wrapped you in a fluffy towel and dried you off. I brushed your long brown hair and massaged you with lavender lotion. I led you to our bedroom and made love to you gently. I remember asking you if you were ready to make a baby and you just kissed me and got in position. As I inseminated you, I wished that there was some way I could physically inseminate you: to make a true genetic combination of the two of us. You saw my disappointment in my eyes and you knew how I felt because that was how you felt when we made Barby and Noah. You just nodded in acknowledgement and squeezed my hand. Afterwards, I just held you and we laughed as we remembered the process of picking our sperm donor, BR613. We had to use a sperm donor since I didn't have any male relatives, so Tristan and this baby would be half-siblings. We wondered how many kids he fathered. He has our two, at least. I smiled as I remembered you giggling in my ear, as we both recalled his profile.

"Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, Mensa intelligent, rocket scientist, likes Dots and fondue, loves musicals..." you said.

"But the thing that made us pick BR613 was the video of his body dancing while singing JT. Remember how weird it was to see a headless body sing and dance! He was great though."

"Yeah, babe, we wanted to make sure our kids were genetically gifted by him and us to love the arts. And so far, it has worked. I already see it in Tristan," you answered.

"Well, Rach, I hope that this baby will be an astronaut and go to Mars. Or be a chef or an author or a painter. I want this child to be whatever they want to be. Hey, do you feel any different?"

You reached over and kissed me and whispered in my ear, "I think we just made another Pierceberry, babe. " We fell asleep, wrapped up in each other, knowing that our family would soon be complete.

"Mama?" Tristan says with sleep-laced eyes.

"Right here, little man. Good nap?"

He nods and smiles as I hear the door open up behind him. He starts babbling, "Baba. Baba."

I turn around and see my daughter enter the Chapel. She takes Tristan from my arms.

"How's my lil brother? Sleep well?" she says to him brightly.

"Hey mom. You okay?" she asks me, full of concern.

"Yeah, sweetie, as okay as I can be. I am just really worried that something is wrong. That maybe your Ninang isn't telling me the whole truth. She is used to protecting me. It is in her DNA to. But I just can't help to think that she is hiding something..."

"Mom, that's not true. She said that she was being completely honest and she has never ever lied to me. Nor to you, so believe Ninang Tana's word. Well, I have good news to tell you. Maybe it will help distract you from all of this. Auntie Tina told me, unofficially, that I got into Juilliard."

I wrap you in a hug as Tristan get smushed between us.

"You did this, honey, on your own merit. It was not legacy or Tina that got you in, it was all you. Just be proud of this amazing accomplishment. I am so very proud of you." I exclaim as happy tears (for a change) slip out. You hug me back and we take a moment to let the news soak in.

"I thought I would know where I would want to go, but now, I am not too sure, Mom. It is my number one dance choice, but I really want to go and see Stanford. Are we still going to get to go? Even after everything that has happened?" Barby asks me with questions swimming in her eyes.

"Barby, of course we are still going on that California tour. I promised and we made a plan. It is a couple of months from now, so, don't you worry, okay? Stanford would be lucky to have you too."

"Thanks, mom. Your the best, really. Well, you and mama are the best. Auntie Quinn also convinced me to apply at Yale for art history and pre-med too. She said she would waive the application fee and write my recommendation, so I guess that is one more to add, " Barby says with a smile.

I hug her again when I hear the door open one more time. I see Santana and I hold my breath as she says:

"Britt-britt, Rachel is awake."

_**Chapter 6- Dark Side**_

_Suggested listening: From Kelly Clarkson's album, Stronger, "Dark Side"_

"Honey, you must be exhausted. Come on and get in bed. I will put Holden and Harper down, ok?" Quinn says as she leads me to our bed. She draws down the sheets and helps me out of my scrubs. "Here are your favorite pjs, I just watched them, San," she says as she hands me my faded heather grey Yale Medical School t-shirt and her pink boxer shorts with white polka dots. She slaps me playfully on the ass to get me into bed. Quinnie tucks me in, just like she is about to do to our twins. "Now, I am prescribing you to stay in this bed and to sleep a minimum of 8 hours. You are off-service for the next week. No calls. Dr. Q's orders."

I love it when you get that authoritative voice and I smile and purse my lips, waiting for your lips. You happily oblige, kissing me tenderly and then kissing my forehead. "Good night, beautiful," you tell me. I am asleep before you even leave the room.

I open my eyes and know I am in a dream from the past. I am in our apartment at Yale. Thanks to the whole legacy thing with your family, we had a sweet condo that was set aside for the Fabray currently at Yale for graduate school. Yup, that was how much legacy your family had in this school. Crazy to think that you probably only met 3 Fabray cousins in your generation twice and were not close to them. You weren't even close to your own sister, who really was cut from the same exact conservative, Republican cloth as your father. You being with Rachel cut off any chance in reviving that relationship. Truly, all this luxury that was afforded by your last name was the one good thing you got from your father's side of the family.

It was the summer and I had just moved in because I would be beginning medical school that coming fall. You were a wreck. You had broken up with Rachel, attempted suicide, and were about to come home after a month-long stay at Yale's psychiatric and mental health center. Rachel, Tina, and Britt-britt were here to welcome you home. Your mother didn't know how to handle the situation. Your father and sister were no were to be found. It was okay though, because since forever, we were your family. Despite your break-up with Rachel, she was still your best friend. We all knew how much you needed us, even if you were going to refuse our help.

We had your favorite flowers, white calla lilies, in a beautiful vase on your bedside table. Rachel changed the bedsheets to your oldest and most comfortable pinstriped sheets. Tina had cleaned every inch of the house and had a stack of some of the books she knew you would like to read. Britt and I cooked all of your favorites, well, really our favorites, but we did know how to cook your vegan favorites, too. We were all so worried because, since the rape, you had lost so much weight.

"Okay, guys, I am going to go and pick her up. I think it might be best if you all leave before I get back. She will all know that you were here and you can come by for breakfast tomorrow morning. I just don't want to overwhelm her. I can drop you all of at the Doubletree, that way you can check-in. I promise to call when I get her settled in..." I say to the girls when I hear a key turning in the door. It is you. Of course, you were stubborn and didn't want any help. This was why I was trying to get everyone to leave before you got home. Well, obviously, that plan did not work.

At first glance, I could see how tired and empty you looked, despite the make-up on your face and that typical Quinn dress you were wearing. I knew better then to get at you for not waiting for me to pick you up. You walk up to me and handle me all of the discharge paperwork they gave you.

"Hey, Quinn." I say, before giving you a hug. Hugs were becoming a more commonplace occurrence between us, especially in light of the recent events.

"Hey, San. Dr. McLean allowed me to get discharged without you there only because I promised her that you would take me to my morning therapy session tomorrow. She would like to talk to you then, okay?" you say, in a very soft voice.

"Sure, no problem, Q. So, I tried to get these guys to leave before you got here but..." I say, before Tina, Britt, and Rach emerge from the kitchen. I told them all to try be as normal as possible with you, but they hadn't seen you since in over a month. The last time Rachel saw you awake, well your were semi-conscious, was when we took you to the ER. She thought it would be too much for you to see her when you were awake and alert; she would only see you when you were asleep.

One by one, they all came to greet you. Tina, then Britt, who picked you up and twirled you around until you were laughing at her. Once she put you down, she placed you in front of Rachel. I knew that this was going to be the big one, seeing the woman you love so much, the one whose heart you broke because yours was broken far before hers, on an autumn evening by some bigot who roofied your drink. We all took a couple of steps back to give you some privacy. You both just looked at each other. She spoke first:

"Quinn, I..."

You enveloped her in a hug and you burst into tears. We all followed suit. Even though I had seen you since you were in there, because I was you emergency contact and I would be the one who you would be released to, I was too involved to let my emotions get the best of me. I couldn't let my mind go to that headspace where you could have been gone, my best friend. I had to be responsible and take charge of everything that was a shambles. Seeing you and Rachel hugging made all of that emotion bubble up and I realized how close I came to losing you.

Since high school, we had all gotten closer. We would see each other on the weekends, alternating between going to New Haven and you coming down to NYC. There was always something going on, between Yale, Columbia, NYADA, and Juilliard. There was a shift in the dynamics once you and Rachel got together, but it was one we were all so happy for. You and I left all the cattiness of high school back in Lima, and you were just my other best friend.

Having you girls in my life made me feel safe and accepted. Along with my cousins, I felt like I was surrounded by love. Now, I just wanted you to feel that and to know that we were all here rooting for you. I pulled Tina and Britt into the kitchen, so that you two could have some time.

I can feel the bed dip next to me and I can feel you snuggle up to me, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. I can hear you talking to me:

"God, babe. What a crazy couple of days it's been, huh? Do you know how much I love you, Santana? I love you so fucking much. If anything were to happened to you..."

I open my eyes and see tears in my wife's eyes.

"Quinn. Quinnie, look at me. I am right here and I am not going anywhere."

"Yeah, San, I know that, but, we almost lost Rachel. It all happened so fast. One minute we were all laughing, making waffles in the kitchen. The next minute, I was helping you deliver Charlotte in our bathroom!" you exclaim, through the sobs.

I hold you in my arms. We hadn't really seen much of each other in the past two days. I was in the hospital for 48 hours straight, since Rachel was admitted. I finally left out of sheer exhaustion, once I knew that Rachel had finally woken up from the surgery. She seemed okay and that was all I needed to get me home. I let you cry it out as I started to cry myself, to let go of all that emotion and stress. Back in high school, we never would have allowed ourselves to show this kind of "weakness." I think the one time you did, it was when we were in New York City for Nationals. You were exclaiming to Britts and I that everyone has found love except for you. Well, you were in love with Rachel, but she was in love with Finn. You were mourning the loss of our domination as the Unholy Trinity. We cut your hair in response to your crisis. Now, so many years later, we are weeping openly, holding and consoling each other. We fall asleep, wrapped up in each other. It was the best way for me to get recharged. Your arms are my life source.

Harper, my daughter through and through, wakes me up in the middle of the night. You start to stir, but I tell you that I will get her.

I am sitting in the wooden rocking chair that has been in the Lopez family for 2 generations, trying to get Harper back to sleep. She was the one I gave birth to and I could already see my temperament in her. She was wide awake while Holden was asleep. They were always opposites. He was able to self-soothe better than her. But, she wasn't misbehaving, she was wet and hungry. I changed her diaper and than I put her to my breast. I started to sing a lullaby to her, rocking her back and forth. As I look down upon my daughter, I remember the day we first saw her.

"There she is, San. Everything looks great!" Jamie says with a smile.

Quinn is 1 month pregnant and our plan had worked, we were both pregnant at the same time. I can feel tears rolling down my face as I look at the ultrasound screen then look up at you. You are crying too. Then, we hear Harper's heartbeat: fast, steady, and strong.

"So, I will see you in 3 weeks, Santana? Sound good?"

Jamie went to medical school with Lisa and I. We were the Three Muskateers and she lived in the same building as Quinn and I. Jamie also completed her residency with me at the Brigham and she was a partner in our very busy practice.

"Great, James. See you then. Say hi to Jake and Violet for us. We all need to get together soon, alright? We do live in the same building for crissakes!"

"Ha! So true, girl. We need a girls night, especially before you both get too big to move!"

she says as she washes her hands. I am free next Friday night, you should be too, because Nicole and Abigail are on-call that night."

"Okay, it's a date! I will tell Lisa and hopefully she can come to."

"Perfect, Santana. Next Friday, huh? This is going to be epic, I can already tell." Jamie exclaims before typing in some notes on the computer.

I begin to dress and Quinn is sitting quietly on the chair.

"Babe. You okay, Quinnie?" I ask my wife.

"Hmmm? Yeah, just kinda overwhelmed. It is really happening. In nine months, we are going to have 2 babies, hon."

"Well, as close to nine months as possible but yes, that is the hope!" I say, as I get down from the examination table. I pull you up and kiss you on those lips I love so much.

"I know it is a lot. This hasn't hit me yet, but it will soon, I promise.

We walk out of the office, holding hands, ripe with anticipation for our babies.

I look down and Harper is fast asleep. I gently place her back in the crib she shares with Holden. I pat him and he smiles at me. I double check the baby monitor before I leave my babies in slumberland. I head into the kitchen to warm myself some milk, to help me get back to sleep. I smile as I open the fridge, knowing that Kurt and Blaine restocked it.

You know, it was our coffeehouse dates that brought us closer together. We would go there every single day. Sometimes it was for a quick cup to-go; other times it was for a long lunch. It was nice to each other in the middle of day and I always looked forward to it. We knew each other's coffee order. Your favorite drinks were a soy honey vanilla roobios and soy toffee nut cafe au lait. It was those days and interactions that I grew to loving you more than a friend.

You scolded me: "San, we are supposed to ask each other 1 ridiculous question a day. No cop outs. Here is my question: Was I any good in the sack, you know after we got wasted at the non-wedding of the year?"

I gulp as I remember that night...

My heart was beating triple time by the time we were traipsing down the 3rd floor of the surprisingly fancy hotel. In my head somewhere, there was voice telling me slow down, to stop and think about what I was about to do. I was going into a hotel room with you, Lucy Quinn Fabray, not Brittany Susan Pierce. Yes, you had been mercilessly flirty with me all night. Yes, I flirted right back. I had a reputation to uphold and I knew I was the hottest piece of ass in the joint. But there was a huge line between saying things, dancing closely, and having sex. I mean, this is where all of this is leading, right? I was about to hook-up with my other best friend. Shit.

I looked at you, really looked at you. I could see what everyone saw: a fucking, gorgeous woman. I also saw what nobody else did: a vulnerable, scared girl not that different from myself. I could have stopped this, stopped us, before it got more out of hand than it already had. I could grab your hands, as you pulled me into the room. I could stop my lips from crashing into yours with so much want and desire. I could stop my hands from taking off your jacket, dress, bra, thong. I could have stopped all of it. But, I didn't want to. I wanted this. I wanted you at that moment. I needed this for one night. It takes two to tango and you could have stopped me at anytime, too. But I got the feeling that you wanted it as much as I did.

You reciprocated: kiss for kiss, touch for touch. You were a quick study, eager try whatever I was doing. You surprised me with your movements and how turned you made me. I could tell you were close and it thrilled me to know that I made you emit noises of pleasure. I wanted to taste but I was not sure how receptive you would be to that. So, I sheathed your body completely with mine, allowing you to feel my breasts press into yours, kissed you deeply, held your hand with mine. I stopped and looked deep into her eyes. Your eyes were filled with lust and amazement. Quinn, you looked at me with so much need for release as you bucked your hips up into me.

I wanted to show you that I cared and that I did love her, just not in the way you deserved. You did deserve to be shown how wonderful sex can be between two people who care for each other. So, I slowed things down. I didn't want you to think this is just a throwaway, drunken one-night stand. I mean, if I was going to be your only female sexual experience ever, I wanted to blow her mind.

You noticed the shift in my actions, that I was not in the frenetic, break-neck speed with which we started all of this. I was waiting for you to halt our activities and to say that this was all a mistake. But you didn't say any of that. Instead, you pulled my chin up and kissed me ever so gently, as if saying it was okay to keep going. We continued this dance of lips, tongues, and touches until we were both so worked up. I knew you were ready and I knew what to do. I entered you slowly with my lone finger, allowing you to adjust to me. I looked down and your eyes closed in pleasure, her fingernails pressing into my back.

"You okay?" I asked. I didn't want to hurt her or do something she doesn't want.

You opened you hazel eyes and answered breathlessly, "Fuck, Santana, you feel so good." With that, I began to move: my finger, my hand, my whole body. I rocked into you, feeling your body rise up to meet me. Again, I was surprised at your actions, wondering if I really was the first girl you had ever been with. Then, I was reminded of the day in a New York City hotel room, you telling Britts and I that you weren't "not into that." Well, right now, you most certainly were into that, writhing underneath me. You came undone with one more thrust, blooming and unfolding around my fingers like the most lovely yellow rose, with each petal falling down around us. After awhile, I slowly withdrew my hand and I kissed you one more time.

A few moments later, you were propped up on pillows at the head of the bed with the comforter snugly around your beautiful, naked body, taking a swig from a water bottle. I was lying at the foot of the bed, draped in a bed sheet. I was so fucking turned on: by our previous activities, knowing I just made my best friend cum, and because you looked ridiculously hot in the afterglow of sex.

"So, that is why college girls experiment." you said.

"And thank god that they do," I answered back. I could tell you are about to ask about this and if it changes anything. I knew that it doesn't changed anything.

"This is a one-time thing," you stated flatly.

"I am not going to come with a U-Haul, if that is what you are worried about," I said in response, reading your mind.

You sighed in relief, knowing that we were both on the same page.

"So, what do we do now, San?" You assumed that I have experience in this type of activity. Honestly, I had only done wedding reception sex with Brittany, in my Range Rover after the Hudson-Hummel wedding. The surroundings of this hookup were a huge upgrade from the backseat of my car.

"Well, you can go downstairs first... (I decided to press my luck) or we can make this a two-time thing?"

You throw a mischievous look my way, before you lunged toward my body, taking the sheet down. Quinnie, you made me come too, with remarkable ease. Maybe it was because it had been so long since I have had sex; maybe it was because you were the first girl I had been with who was not Brittany; maybe it was because this was a new sensation. I had had plenty of those that night: flirting, slow dancing, hooking up with you. I guessed, if I was embarking on new ground, I was happy that it was with you. Tonight was a revelation, in so many ways. For a brief, fleeting moment, I was able to not think of Brittany. Granted, I was having sex, but still, this was a big step. You were the first person I slept with since Brittany and I didn't feel guilty at all.

You held me in your arms and I returned your embrace. We remained like that, just breathing in the silence of the room and of the moment. I knew that once we leave this room, we would go back to our lives. You went back to Yale. I went back to New York City. We would probably never speak of this ever again. Just because we slept together, our relationship and our friendship wouldn't change. It was one of the reasons why I knew it was okay to cross this line with you. I knew that we would cross back after this night was over. But we've had that one night, you and I. Tomorrow came soon enough.

As I put the empty mug in the sink, I know that I have to tell you about Brittany's kiss and the fact that I reciprocated. I need to tell you,even before I discusses it with Brittany because the one rule we have is absolutely, positively no secrets. This was the first time I had thought about it since it happened. Now, it is my turn to slip into our marriage bed. I kiss your neck and spoon you, just listening to your light snore, watching the rise and fall of your chest. In the morning, I will tell you about Britt. For now, I just close my eyes and wait for the next dream down Quinn memory lane.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part III: The Season Everything Changed**

_**Chapter 1- Uncharted**_

_Suggested listening: From Kaleidoscope Heart, Sara Bareilles' Uncharted_

Whenever I am stressed, I do two things: organize and bake. I had just organized our junk drawer three days ago, so I put all of my energy into rolling out pie crust. I had made blueberry and lemon poppyseed muffins for breakfast. I made a batch of my famous oatmeal chocolate chip cookies as soon we got home from the hospital last night. I was in the midst of making an apple pie when Quinn calls me.

"Pie. You are making a pie, Tina. Jeez, you are really worried, huh? I want one of your muffins for breakfast, k. Can I stop by with the twins before you go to work? Try not to worry so much. You always worry to much," she says to me.

"Well, you and Santana left last night right after Rachel woke up so you don't know this. I don't really know how to say this..."

"Just spit it out, Cohen-Chang."

"Rachel doesn't remember her life with Brittany, any of it. She woke up thinking that she was still with you. She remembers everything until right after your suicide attempt."

"Oh, fuck."

"Yeah, that's what we were all thinking. Brittany was a crying mess. I don't even know how she had any tears left to cry. The kids were confused, as was Rachel. The neurologist came in and said that amnesia was a possible side effect and he was hoping her memory would come back soon."

"Tina, I think that is Santana on the other line. She just got to the hospital. She is probably going to tell me what you just told me. I'll come over in a bit?"

Santana and Quinn lived in the brownstone to the left of us. We lucked out because we found a row of brownstones on the same block as Rachel and Brittany. In fact, Mike and I were smack dab in the middle of my best friends' homes. It was 4 blocks away from Arty and Marley's home, 5 blocks aways from Blaine and Kurt's and 6 blocks from and Mercedes and Sam. Puck lived in a condo on Park Avenue and Shelby was in the same building as him. We were all within walking distance of each other.

"Yeah, Q. I'm heading into work at 0930. I can pick you up around 1500?"

"Sounds perfect to me, Tina. Thanks. See you soon."

"Mama. Mama." Katy says from her high chair. She was eating breakfast.

I pour my daughter some grape juice in her no-spill sippy cup and kiss her on her forehead.

"More cheer-os, mama!" she asks and I happily comply with her request. I sit down next to her and wait for Quinn to come over for her muffin and cup of tea. She always had a morning cup of tea, while Santana and I would need a cup of joe, preferably an espresso. Brittany would have hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.

I have always been the sentimental one amongst our circle of friends. I have a photographic memory that has also translated into my life events. I can remember meeting Santana when we were 8. I remember her kissing me when we were 10. It was during recess and we were playing Tag. I had tugged us both to home base. As a gesture of gratitude, for saving her from Quinn's grasp, she kissed me. I remember it was a quick peck, then we both jumped back, before laughing at each other over the new sensation of lips touching lips. She was my first kiss and I was her second. Of course, Brittany was Santana's first kiss, apparently the week before, same circumstance of saving her during "Tag," or so she claimed. Actually, Santana was my second kiss too, because we were playing spin-the-bottle in Brittany's basement when we were 13 at her 8th grade graduation party with Puck, Finn, and Sam. The first boy I kissed was Arty. I was also the only straight one out of the group since Santana and Quinn were gay and Brittany was pansexual. It didn't bother me, it just made me feel lucky to count these amazing people as my best friends.

I hear a knock on the door. "Come in..." I say, knowing it is Quinn. She opens the door, looking completely frazzled, talking to me as soon as she walks in. She puts Holden and Harper on the ground, next to Katy, before gathering me in a hug.

"God, Tina. She still doesn't remember her life with Britt. Doesn't remember them dating, getting married, having kids. Her memory is intact up to my suicide attempt. Britt is losing it. I need to get over there." Quinn says in one breath.

"Okay, okay. Let me do this. I will work from home. It's close to Winter Break anyway and I'm kinda the mini-boss, so I can stay home today. Leave the babies here and I will watch them. When Mike gets home from his morning classes, he can watch them and I will come over there. That is the plan."

"Thank you so much, T. Maybe if Rachel sees me, it will get better?"

"I hope so, Q."

Quinn grabs the basket of muffins, kisses Holden, Harper, Katy and me, before grabbing her car keys and purse. "See you soon, gurl. Take care of them, k? And a million thanks!"

"Fabray, just remember you owe Mike and I two babysitting nights!" I say to lighten the mood. She throws me a quick smile before heading out the door.

It is mid-morning and I have just laid the twins down for a nap. Katy is sitting at her desk, coloring in her animal coloring book. I had just taken to apple pie out of the oven.

"Mama, smell good!" Katy says as she picks up a red crayon.

"Yup, baby girl, it is apple pie. We can have some soon."

"Apple pie. Apple pie is yummy. Apple pie." she says in a sing-songy voice. Our Katy was so musical. Mike and I were thrilled that our daughter inherited that from the both of us. We had just gotten a baby grand piano, the one I have always been dreaming of teaching my daughter on.

Playing piano was something that came natural to me and was as necessary to me as breathing. It was a typical stereotype that Asian kids can play the piano. I fullfilled that one to the best of my ability. My mom and dad met during their time with the New York Philharmonic. My mom was a flutist and my dad was played the french horn. They started me off with piano lessons at the age of 3, just like I was going to do with Katy. I can also play the flute, violin, viola, and upright bass. Piano is and will always be my first love. Brittany, Quinn, Santana and I were all in group piano lessons that we started at 4th grade. Because I had been taking lessons since I was 4 and was far advanced, I would practice Bach or the score to Phantom of the Opera while they were learning scales. This was just another thing we all did together, besides Girl Scouts and Children's Choir. Whenever someone was looking for Santana, for example, they knew that they could find her among us. We were all attached at the hip. I was particularly closer to Santana. We always had a friendly competition with each other. We challenged each other in academics, during swimming and diving meets, in gymnastics, and in piano. At McKinley, as a freshman, I started to concentrate on Piano, which led me to not try out for the Cheerios. Santana was the most disappointed with my decision but she understood why. It was the first time we had all did something apart and that is how they became the Unholy Trinity. It was true that Santana had a rivalry with Quinn but theirs was more competitive than ours. Quinn, Santana, and I were always in the same honors and A.P. classes at McKinley. We finished at the top of our graduating class. Quinn was valedictorian, which was amazing, considering she had Beth. Santana and I were tied for salutatorian. We all did early decision on our colleges and we so happy to be within the vicinity of each other. Brittany joined me at Juillard, after turning down MIT's full ride, which was a difficult decision for her. She worked out a program that she could still do independent study at MIT while at full-time at Julliard. She didn't really care about which degree she got, she was just so happy that her genius was finally being challenged. We all knew that Brittany wasn't dumb. She is brilliant, just like the rest of us. In the end, she got a B.A. in Dance and a B.S. in Mathematics in 5 years. See, brilliant.

Being good at piano gave me confidence and swagger. It wasn't long before I was playing in piano recitals and winning competitions, like the Ohio State Fair Talent Show. I was the youngest to ever win, at 7 years old. I also knew that Julliard was my dream school. My parents were always very supportive of everything I did and they were so proud of me. I was an only child of a Jewish father and Chinese mother. I was raised in both the Catholic and Jewish faiths. Rachel and I had in Judaism in common. I would sit next to her at temple for Sabbath with my father on Fridays and Mass with my mom on Sundays. We would sit next to Brittany, Santana, Quinn, and our families. We had a pretty awesome upbringing and were lucky to have such an idyllic childhood. Our adulthood strengthened our friendship and it was times like these, that tested that strength and would ultimately bring us closer.

Medical issues were a common occurrence as we grew up. We would have skinned knees, poison ivy, bee stings, and chicken pox. Santana broke her left arm when we were 11, which was horrible because she is left-handed. Quinn's big medical event was her pregnancy sophomore year. I had a lot of ear infections and had to have tubes put in my ears. The Unholy Trinity had sprained their ankles multiple times, thanks to Sue's insane routines. Britt had to have her tonsils removed when we were 9. Rachel was relatively healthy, this being her biggest medical emergency. Brittany also had to deal with her father's cancer for a long time. This was time around,we all had to rally around Rachel and show her our love and support.

I could see that Katy was getting sleepy, so I set her up on the couch in the living room and began to play her favorite lullabys. This always put all the babies to sleep. Playing soothing melodies helped to relax me. As I play Fur Elise, I recalled a talk I had with Quinn about Rachel.

Quinn, it was about 6 weeks after you had come home from rehab and you were starting to act like yourself. Really, it was a new and improved version of you. It was as if you checked out of rehab as Quinn 2.0, with all the new fancy whistles and bells of an upgrade. You were staying a week with me, working on your writing while I was preparing for the Fall semester at Julliard, where I was hired as a special instructor for Piano. You said you needed time away from New Haven. It wasn't lost on any of us that you wanted to be close to Rachel, being in the same city as her, even if you didn't necessarily see her all the time. The old Quinn would be staying over at Rachel loft, instead of mine. We were within walking distance of each other and still, you would only see Rach if I was with you. Maybe it was too soon for you to be alone with her. I could tell that you were still hurting so much. You were both trying to navigate this new relationship where you both still loved each other deeply but right now, it wasn't enough. I was witness to what that type of love looked like: a forever love. My parents were married for over 40 years, Rachel's dads and Santana's parents were together forever. I saw that love between Brittany and Santana and you and Rachel. Now, I see it between you and Santana and with Brittany and Rachel. Crazy how the universe works itself out. I know that Mike and I also have that same type of love. God, I could only imagine what Britt is going through. If something like that ever happened to Mike, I would be beside myself. I guess that this what tragedy perpetuates; it encourages you to take stock in your life. It makes you remember what matters and who matters in your life. It makes you confront life and death, just like I did after your (thankfully) failed suicide attempt.

It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon and we were sitting on my sofa, snuggled underneath two blankets. I had just handed you a mug of chamomile tea with a spot of milk and honey. I could tell that you were about to talk about her. I just had to ask the right questions. Earlier that week, we had talked about your Ph.d program, us (your friends), and now you were ready to open up about the love of your life.

"Quinn, I don't think I ever told you how scared I was that day. Santana called me after it happened and I took the next train up to New Haven. I couldn't believe you did that. I couldn't believe I had missed the signs." I started saying.

"Tina, I was hiding how bad it was from everyone. I mean, I knew I was bad, in a bad headspace. I didn't know how to ask for help from anyone. So, please, don't feel bad or guilty anymore. I am learning how to let go of my rage and guilt, and you have to as well. I know that what I did was horrible. In some ways, I wished that it worked. The thing is that I was so depressed and in so much pain, I thought that killing myself was the only solution. But mostly, I am glad that Rachel told Santana and that they saved me when they did. I know now that it was the worst option." Quinn replies.

"The one who took it the hardest was Rachel, obviously. I was with her right after the paramedics took you away. Santana went along with them, so I was in the waiting room with her. We both couldn't stop crying. She was telling me what an awesome night you had, that you were you again and that she thought everything was behind you. By that one night, you had given Rachel the hope she had lost for the two of you. Your suicide attempt took that hope away when you tried to leave her for good. She knew that you were suffering, but you kept up appearances. You were getting up and going to class; you were showering and wearing clean clothes. You appetite had diminished, but that was true since the rape. We were all pretty much blindsided by your attempt. But with Rachel, she felt like the rug was pulled from underneath her. She was free falling and it was me who caught her."

"Thank you for being there for her, Tina, at a time when I couldn't." Quinn answers, before sipping her tea. "Even now, I don't think I can be there for her. I am still processing what I did and the ramifications of my actions and how they reverberate throughout my whole life. I know that I hurt all of you so very deeply and that I hurt Rach the most. I just don't know what to say to her."

"Well, maybe you can start by telling her that. You don't know what to say, but you are sorry for hurting her. I think that Rachel has a lot to say to you, but she doesn't want to cause a setback, because we can all see how hard you are working on yourself right now."

"It's just that there is this uncomfortable undercurrent whenever we see each other, which why I like having you there. But I know that I need to talk to her one-on-one. I have just been avoiding it."

"Why don't we do this? I need to be at Julliard tomorrow afternoon. I know that Rachel is off on Thursdays, so invite her over for afternoon tea. It gives you the morning to prepare yourself. You would be meeting in a comfortable space for you. I think that, as difficult as this seems, ultimately, it will help the both of you."

"Tina, I just hurt her so much. I don't think there is anything I can say to make that pain go away. I see it in her eyes, in the few times I have seen her. How did I go from loving her so much that I wanted to marry her to now? To this? I mean, I still love her Tina, so very much. Do I tell her that? Would she believe me?" Quinn says, as she begins to cry. "I cannot hurt her anymore and I just think that anything I say will do just that."

I put down my tea and go over to hold her. I start to cry along with you. After a long silence I speak:

"Quinn, you hurt all of us, but you have spoken to me, Santana, and Brittany. They were all difficult discussions but you made it through. You will make it through this one, too. Just say how you are feeling. Tell Rachel that you are scared to talk, scared of hurting her again. Say whatever you feel comfortable saying. I am sure that she will appreciate whatever you say, as long as you are being honest to her and to yourself. I get that this isn't going to be easy. It will be extremely emotional for the both of you. I think that you are ready to have this conversation. I mean, here we are talking about it openly. I think that Rachel and you need to do the same."

"Tina, how do you always know the right thing to say?"

"It's just my psychic Jewish-Chinese 3rd eye, Q. It is always right. So, how bout we make gluten-free zucchini bread?"

After we put it in the oven, you called Rachel and asked her to come over the next day. Of course, she agreed. We discussed what you would talk about and a few more tears were shed. At the end of the day, you were more settled and sure of yourself. I left the next morning, knowing that you would be okay; that you, Rachel, Brittany, Santana and I would all be okay.

I am awakened from this memory by Holden crying. I go into Katy's room and see Holden pulling himself up and looking around, presumably for his moms. He gives me a toothy grin and holds his arms up to me. I pick him up and he giggles. Harper is still asleep, as is Katy. I bring him with me into the kitchen, set him in a high chair, as I begin to prepare lunch for Mike, myself, and the kiddies.

I never could have imagined that this would be my life. I am in the kitchen with Quinn and Santana's son, with their daughter and my daughter nearby. Professionally, I wanted to be a concert pianist. I did accomplish that dream, during my four years at Julliard and afterwards with the New York Symphony. I was now in a job that loved, helping young people achieve their goals in their dream school. Personally, I knew since that Asian summer camp that I wante dto me with Mike forever. As having a daughter and an expression of our love just made my life complete. I always knew that us, Brittany, Quinn, Santana, and myself would be best friends forever. How it ended up working out, Pierceberry and Quinntana, instead of Brittana and Faberry, was not what I had imagined. I am sure that they didn't imagine it either. They all had epic love stories, just like Mike and I. I was just so happy that I can say I have had my best friends with me through my entire life; to share with them all the small and big events that have collectively made up my life. We have been friends for over 30 years, I hope we are friends for another 30.

It is the 8 o' clock at night by the time I get home from the hospital. Quinn and Santana are with me to pick-up the twins. As soon as we burst through the door, I could hear Katy laughing and the babies squealing with delight. We go to the family room and see them dancing with Mike. Katy was getting more coordinated with her moves and was able to find the beat. Mike was holding Harper up by the hands and dancing with her, while Holden was on the floor, sitting, rocking back and forth to the beat. It was a welcome sight, after the challenging afternoon we all had.

Seeing Quinn made things worse instead of better. She kept asking Quinn all of these questions while all of us were in the room. She couldn't understand why she couldn't remember her life with Brittany, but could remember her life with Quinn. She remembered being under the light in the Santana's gazebo the summer after her graduated McKinley. She recalled gazing under the stars, when you had your first kiss. She remembered your rape and how difficult that time was the both of you. Finally, she remembered your suicide attempt, and waiting for you to come home. It was then that your memories stopped: the day Quinn got home from Yale. Rachel knew that her and Brittany were closer friends than before, but she didn't know their love story. She couldn't remember the daisies and candles love confession or how she was the one to propose first. She didn't know that she won a Tony award. She had no memory of the births of Barby, Noah, Tristan, and Charlotte. Her own children were strangers to her. As she came to grips with how much she was missing, it made her upset at herself, even though there was no one to blame. It was all weighing down on Brittany, as she had to fill-in-the-gaps to Rachel's patchwork memory. The other thing that we discovered was that, in her mind, Santana and Brittany finally got back together. It never really did happen, minus the summer they spent back in Lima. What they had was a summer fling that didn't pan out once they returned to New York City, despite the huge effort from the two of them. Essentially, in Rachel's mind, she was in love with Quinn. Britt and San were together, as in "together-together." We all had pounding headaches, after deciphering what Rachel knew and didn't know.

I go to Mike and give him a quick peck before joining in the dance party. Quinn takes Harper from Mike, picks her up, and starts dancing too. Santana sits on the floor with Holden, clapping out the beat. We all dance until we are exhausted, both adults and children.

"I cooked supper and have it waiting in the oven for you guys. I figured that you wouldn't have time to eat anything. I made halibut, green beans with almonds, and mashed garlic potatoes, which were a big hit, huh guys?" Mike says.

Quinn looks at her kids, smells Harper and realizes that Mike had given them their bedtime baths.

"Oh, Mike! You didn't have to give them their baths! I am so sorry..." Quinn starts to apologize.

"Q, it's all good. After dinner, they had mashed potatoes all over themselves. Katy get her bath at night too, so I just bathed them all at once. We still had the pajamas they wore when the spent the night. I figured that it would one less thing for you and Santana to do, after such a taxing day."

Santana and Quinn simultaneously give Mike a kiss on each of his cheeks. "Just for that alone, we now owe you 3 date nights of babysitting Katy, ok?" Santana says with a tired smile. At that, Holden lets out a big yawn and Harper isn't far behind.

"Well, ladies and gent, I think that is our cue to leave. Thanks again, Mike, for everything! Come over for dinner tomorrow, k? I might even make one of your favorites, Mike. How do Lopez enchiladas sound?"

With excitement, Mike says, "I never turn done a meal made by Dr. Lopez. See you tomorrow night then! Around 1800 sound good, Santana?"

"That sounds perfect, Mike Chang."

We all exchange hugs and good-byes as Mike walks to Fabraylopez brood to the door.

It is the next day, 1000 by the time I see Rachel again. This time, I am alone with her, minus Katy of course. She could have been in daycare, but ever since everything happened, I wanted her close to me. She is napping on the cot that Brittany has been sleeping on the past couple of nights. Santana is back at work, as is Quinn. Britt was at the NICU, visiting Charlotte. We didn't want to leave you alone, so we had a rotating schedule. You were also napping, Rachel. I think that all of this had left you equally emotionally and physically spent.

I was sitting, praying the Rosary for you, for all of us. Christmas and Hannukah were around the corner and I was wondering what would be happening. I remembered yours and Quinn first holiday season together. Q had asked me to go shopping and her help pick out Rach's present.

"I think I know what to get her, Tina, but maybe it's too early to?" Quinn says as we walk down crowded 5th Avenue. I was just along for the ride, well the NYC speed walking, push and shoving ride. "Is it too soon for jewelry?" she asks me.

"Well, I think that jewelry is always a nice gift. It shows committment. So, what to you have in mind Q? A bracelet? Earrings?"

"A ring. I want to ask Rachel to marry me, " she says as she opens the door to Tiffany's, ushering me inside. It was my first time ever in the famous store. It was all sparkly, classy, and warm, just like Quinn. I look at her with wide eyes as I realize why we were here.

"You, you are going to buy an engagement ring? You have only been together for 9 months, Quinn! Don't you think it's too soon?"

"Well, these past months have been the best of my life. If there is a way that I can make that feeling last forever, then I want to do it. I have loved Rachel for so long Tina, since high school. I don't want to wait anymore. I just want to know how you think she will react," she says as she approaches the engagement ring case.

"Good morning, Miss Fabray. Want to see it, again?" the saleslady asks Quinn.

"Hi, Terri. Yes, please. I want to show my best friend the ring. I need her opinion." Quinn says, looking expectantly. I shoot Quinn a look; she is on a first-name basis with her.

She opens the case, as I look down at all the diamond rings. I had never seen so many diamonds in one place. They were all so beautiful. Terri plucks out the chosen ring and hands it to Quinn. I wonder how many times she has come in her to look at it. Knowing Quinn, it has probably been once a week, since she picked it out. She looks at it, inspects it, before handing it to me. "What do you think, Tina?"

I take the ring from her hand and look at it. It's brilliance catches all the light, refracting rays of light from the center diamond. The ring was exquisite and Quinn has always had impeccable taste.

"It is half-carat Lucida cut solitaire, set in platinum. Once I first saw it, I knew it was the one. So..."

I am tongue-tied. I know she is waiting for a response, but how am I supposed to react. My best friend wanted my opinion on am engagement ring. I thought we would looking for necklaces. I compose myself and start:

"Quinn, it's just...it's perfect. I know that Rachel would love it. It suits her. But are you sure about this? I mean, really sure?"

"Yes, Tina. I have never been more certain of anything in my life."

Terri smiles wide, as does Quinn. I can see the resolve set in her eyes. She just needed my approval. She takes the ring from me one more time and she closes her eyes. I bet she is imagining getting down on one knee, proposing to her soulmate, slipping the ring on her left ring finger. Q open her eyes and says, "Finally, Terri. I am doing it. I am buying this engagement ring." She hands Terri back the ring."

"The ring you are holding is just for the display case. I will be right back, Quinn." Terri says with jubilation. What a great job she has, knowing that she brings 2 people together, who love each other so much that they want to get married. She directs us to have a seat in the waiting room. "Ladies, help yourselves to some coffee and tea, while I go and get the ring."

Quinn makes us both a cup of tea as I sit down. I am still shell-shocked. "Q, how long have you had this ring picked out?"

I see a blush spread across her cheeks, "A while." she responds ambiguously.

"So, like 3 months?"

"Longer than that..."

"6 months, then. Wow, that is a long time."

She hand me my cup of tea, as she sits beside me."

"A year. I have had this ring picked out for a year, Tina. I would come in once a week to look at it, to make a wish on it, that maybe, by some miracle, I would be able to give it to Rachel, someday. And today, well for Christmas, I can give it to her." Quinn says, as a lone tear falls from her eye.

I turn to face her, "But how did you know? A year ago, you weren't even together?"

"Do you believe in karma, T? Because I do. I believed that if I put it out there in the universe: if I put my love for Rachel out in the universe, somehow, someway, that love would be given back to me. It happened; it worked. I know that Rachel loves me too. We have talked about our future. I just want her to know how serious I am about us."

I take her hands in mind and say, "Well, Lucy Quinn Fabray, asking Rachel to spend the rest of her life with you is most certainly serious. As long as you are absolutely, positively sure about this, then I am 100% behind you." She looks up at me, with tears of joy. I wrap her up in a hug when Terri comes back with Rachel's engagement ring.

You never gave Rachel that ring, Quinn. Two weeks later you were raped. That night forever changed you and Rachel. As much as you loved each other, you couldn't work past the rape, Quinn, no matter how much you tried. You broke up with Rachel, which is something I never thought you would do. Then, you turned around and tried to kill yourself, which is something we never thought you would do. I never asked you what you did with the ring. I am sure you returned it. Rachel never saw it, wrapped up in the standard Tiffany blue ring box with a white bow. I was the only one whoever saw it, besides Quinn. You and Rachel were so close to a life together, it was within your grasp. That ring was an unfullfilled promise that will forever be left unspoken.

I look down at the hand I am holding. It is Rachel's left hand, with her engagement ring and wedding band on her ring finger. I was with you, Rach when you were picking out the bands for you and Brittany. Britt just said whatever you picked out for yourself, just get then same one for her. It was you, Rach, that asked Brittany to marry you first. It was funny actually, because you both had rings. You were going to ask each other to marry, it's just that Rachel beat Britt to the punch. The ring that Britt picked out for you was also perfect. It was a reflection of her unique flair that fit you perfectly. Now, I cannot picture Quinn's ring on your finger. Brittany's engagement ring is the perfect fit.

"Hmmm...Tina?"

"Hey there, sleepyhead." I say, putting away the Rosary beads. I had lost track of where I was anyway, thinking about everything. She looks around. I think it's the first time since she woke up that I was the lone one in the room with her."

"Britt is visiting Charlotte, Quinn had to go to work, and Santana will be in soon. She was called to a delivery."

Rachel nod her head in acknowledgement. "Is that..." she gestures over to my sleeping daughter.

"Yeah, Rach, that's my Katy. She just turned 3 last month."

"She is beautiful, just like her mother. I wish I remembered her. I am sure she had a great birthday party. All of us were there, right?"

"Yeah, it was just us, because that is a lot of people, anyway," I say with a smile. We all had a great time. I know Katy did."

Rachel looks at me with smile, but I know she is heartbroken that she cannot remember these things, the little details and big details of her life.

"It'll be alright, Rachel. It has to be."

She squeezes my hands and answers, "I hope you are right, Tina; from your lips to God's ears.


	14. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 2- Collide**_

_Suggested listening: Acoustic version of Howie Day's "Collide"_

I kept tossing and turning. I couldn't sleep. My movements even woke you up, which is next to impossible. The only thing that wakes you up is either our babies' crying or your labor pager. Even then, it takes you a bit to fully wake up. You are a deep sleeper; my wife is dead the world when she is in slumber.

"Quinnie, what's wrong? Stop moving and come here," you say, opening your arms to me.

I let your arms encircle me and I feel safe, secure. I want to talk about it. Rachel is in love with me and thinks we are still together. Brittany's heart was crushed, hearing her wife profess her love to me. I was shocked; I didn't know how severe her amnesia was.

"Baby, do you think all of this temporary? Rachel will remember Brittany and the kids, right? I mean, she has to. She has to realize that I love you. I am married to you."

You snore in my ear. I should have known better than to attempt a conversation at 3 a.m. As soon as your head hits the pillow again, you are asleep. I always had difficulty turning my mind off to world outside our bedroom. It took me awhile to decompress and to allow myself to relax in this space of tranquility.

I remember the first time we fell asleep in each other's arms. It was right after we had sex, for the second time, during the reception of Mr. Schue & Emma's failed wedding. You made me feel protected and loved. You made me see that sex can be a beautiful experience. The way that night ended was not what I had anticipated at the start. Being back home left me unsettled. Seeing Rachel and Finn together made me physically ill. Rachel and I had talked about coming back for the wedding. She told me about her concerns seeing Finn. But there they were, singing up on stage, looking at each other with those eyes. It was then that I full-on flirted with you. I needed a distraction, just as you needed one from Brittany and Sam. We could be two friends, helping each other out. Slow-dancing with you was quite enjoyable. I was not expecting to have such a wonderful time. I think you deciding to leave Louisville for the bright lights of New York City gave you a boost of confidence. I could see the resolve set in your jaw, determined to not let Sam and Brittany get to you. Sure, alcohol helped the situation. We had learned that lesson ages ago. I could tell that we were both having a good time, despite the forces that led us together. Who knows what would have happened, if Finchel and Bram were not there? We probably never would have hooked-up. And now, I realize what a shame that would be. That tryst laid the first bricks of our foundation together. You were so loving and gentle with me, making sure that it was something I wanted. I did want it and want you, San. It was the first time I felt cared and loved during the most intimate act between two consenting adults. Sex with Puck, Finn, and Sam never felt like that. With you, it opened my eyes to how wonderful sex could be. I knew that I wasn't just another notch on your belt or a conquest. What we shared was more than a one-night stand and I knew that the best part of it all was that I would still have you as my best friend. It didn't change our relationship. If anything, it made our bond stronger. I thought about that night often, when I was at Yale, pining over Rachel, wondering if I would ever experience a night as amazing as the night we shared.

Of course, I did, with Rachel. And you did, with Brittany. But that time was in our past. We were married as Britt and Rachel were married. With Rachel not remembering her life with Brittany, where does that leave us? How do we help her get back to her life? How do I tell her that, while I did love her, I was no longer in love with her? It was so painful and hurtful the first time around. I never imagined I would have to do that again. What if Rachel never remembers her life? Was Brittany supposed to make her fall in love again? Would Santana and I have to explain that we were married and that we were in love? These are all the questions I have swimming in my head, floating to the surface. It is only by listening to the steady in-and-out breaths of my beloved and feeling her embrace when finally drift off into sleep.

Sometime later, I can feel the arm that was on my back move off to stop the din of the alarm. It was amazing that it was that that woke us up, instead of the babies.

"Fuck."

"Hmmmm. Okay, babe." I answer, as I turn into you, pressing my breasts into yours, kissing your neck.

"I meant, fuck, it's morning, silly girl," you tell me, as you start to kiss my neck.

"Yeah, well, I heard fuck, as in fuck," I reply with a smirk and a teasing eyebrow, before colliding into you. Our bodies fit like puzzle pieces, as flipped you on your back, just laying my body on top of yours. I can see you look at the clock. You smile up at me.

"I have ten minutes before I need to get up," you say, completing the puzzle piece fit by locking your lips unto mine. I could kiss you forever.

"Well, my love, ten minutes gives me plenty of time to do this," as I deepen the kiss, "and this," as I lick and nip your earlobe, "and this," as travel down to your breasts, caressing them, "and this," as I slip between your folds."

"Don't tease me, Lucy Quinn Fabray," you retort back. "God, what you do to me."

I continue the assault on your body, peppering every inch with a kiss.

"Tell me more, baby. Ugh, you feel so good."

"Well, I am going to mark you right here," as I lick, nip, and suck on your pulse point, so that everyone knows your mine. I see you throw your neck back in pleasure, giving me more access. "Then, I am going to do this," as I join our lips back together, swirling my tongue with yours. "I know you need me here the most," as I dip my right hand below, cupping you. You buck your hips into me, telling me that I am correct in my assertion.

"Please, Quinn, baby. I need you so much."

With that, I gently circle your clitoris, as I can feel how much you want me. I look into your eyes as I slowly enter you with ring and middle fingers, feeling you stretch open, gladly welcoming them inside of you. I continue to kiss you deeply, as I begin to move inside of you, curling my fingers to feel the smoothness.

"Fuck. Right there, Q. More."

I want to tease you more but I know we are under a time constraint, so I just continue to brush against you, moving my hips into you with each thrust. I can feel you squeeze against my fingers as I stretch you wider, making a V-motion with my fingers. I know that will get you off faster. You wrap your arms under my armpits, holding onto me, feeling our bodies flush together. We dance together, synchronizing our hips, as we kiss each other's neck. I can feel you tighten around me, the pressure building inside you. I can feel your wetness coat my fingers, as I thrust in you one more time. You come spectacularly- I can feel the pulsations rock your entire body. I continue to move within you, coaxing out every last one, before I kiss you gently, slipping out of you.

A few moments after you catch your breath, you look at me with pure love. I look back at the clock.

I say, "Mission complete," as the clock reads 6:15 am.

"What about you?" you ask me.

"Well, can you give, like 3 minutes?"

"I'll give you anything you want, babe."

I straddle your thigh and begin to move against it, feeling my wetness spread. I ride your thigh, rubbing against you. Watching your beautiful descent had already got me so turned on, I know that it won't take much for me to come. You place your hand on my hips, grounding me down onto yourself. I buck into you harder, feeling that familiar tug coming.

"Yes, San, just like that."

You move your thigh up into me as you push down hard onto it and with that I cry out, my orgasm hitting me, waves of pleasure moving from my center out. I collapse into, feeling your wetness hit me. We stay like that for awhile, just enjoying the quiet time after lovemaking.

"San, you are so wet. I love that feeling. Knowing that I make you so wet."

"Well, I am sure you could make me come again in no time at all, but I need to get up. I have grand rounds at 8:00 am this morning," you say, as you begin to disengage our bodies. I pout in protest, as you kiss me, getting up. "Stay in bed. You barely slept. I'll go check on Holden and Harper."

I must have listened to you because I enter the space of being half-awake and half-asleep. This is where the subconscious and conscious merge and I can toe the line between the two. It feel foggy and I have to see thru it to know that the first thing I see is Santana. It is a younger version; I know it by her hair and the way she is dressed. This is med school Santana, the Santana that I fell in love with.

For a long time, I thought that I would never find love again. In ruining my relationship with Rachel, I thought I messed up my one chance of happiness. I could never be that blessed or lucky again. I didn't think that I deserved it. It was this sort of thinking that led us together; you felt the exact same way as I did. You thought that Brittany was your one-shot. There we were two souls without our soulmates. We didn't realize that it was us who were the soulmates. It took us a long while to come to that actualization. Since we both believed we were unworthy of love, we never expected it to come to us, never mind with each other. We were so far removed from our hook-up and we had never talked it about it. We both left that hotel room as best friends, nothing more, nothing less. And I guess that is what our love stemmed from, our friendship that had spanned from Girl Scouts to college graduates and all the mess in between. In as much as her and Brittany were best friends first that was how we started. You were my best friend, helping me thru the most difficult time in my life. You had taken it upon herself to be responsible for me at a time when I couldn't.

I knew the exact moment I realized that I had feelings for you. We had just passed our one year anniversary of living together. We finished our first years of graduate school. It was a warm summer twilight slipping into the darkness of night. Since it was a Thursday, we were at Coffee Grounds for open-mic night. We were sitting at our usual table and you had just brought me a soy chai latte. We had started coming here last year. It was one of the few places I was willing to go to after I was released. I felt comfortable there because I had frequented it since my undergrad days. We started the tradition the first Thursday I came home, to go listen to live music and to unwind.

That very first Thursday, you surprised me by getting up there to sing. You sang Madonna's Cherish, the song I sang to you and Brittany at the Sugar Shack, all those years ago. I could tell that you still loved Brittany so much. I think that you had finally accepted that you and Brittany would never get back together. It was more of a reluctant resignation, but you had to move on. You were ready for the next chapter of your life to begin. I was just getting my bearings, being out of rehab for just 2 weeks. So, that is how we started this standing date on Thursdays. It was one of those things I could rely on each week, just like my therapy appointment on Monday mornings and suicide survivor group meetings on Wednesday evenings. Only here, I could just sit back and listen to everyone else share their music or poetry. I never went up on stage; I felt that I already shared so much of myself with strangers. You would get up and sing on occasion, usually when you were really stressed with med school. Sometimes you would sing songs from our glee glory days, but lately, you were singing new songs. I think that these nights gave you a release for all that pent-up anxiety. I could see the layers of worry fall from your shoulders with each note you sang.

That night, you surprised me when you asked Adam, the barista who had just performed, if you could borrow his guitar. I knew that you started playing around with one, but I didn't know you felt comfortable enough to play a guitar in front of people. You sat on the stool in front of the mike, strummed a couple of chords and started playing.

_The dawn is breaking_

_A light shining through_

_You're barely waking_

_and I'm tangled up in you_

_Well I'm open, you're closed_

_Where I follow, you'll go_

_I worry _

_I won't see your face_

_light up again_

_Even the best fall down sometimes_

_Even the wrong words seem to rhyme_

_Out of the doubt that fills your mind_

_I somehow find_

_you and I_

_collide_

_I'm quiet, you know _

_You make a first impression_

_I've found I'm scared to know _

_I'm always on your mind_

_Even the best fall down sometimes_

_Even the stars refuse to shine_

_Out of the back you fall in time_

_I somehow find_

_you and I_

_collide_

_Don't stop here_

_I lost my place_

_I'm close behind_

_Even the best fall down sometimes_

_Even the wrong words seem to rhyme_

_Out of the doubt that fills your mind_

_You finally find _

_you and I_

_collide_

_Finally find _

_you and I _

_collide_

_You finally find_

_you and I_

_collide_

Santana, when you sing, you put your whole heart and soul on display. It's as if for those four minutes, you give yourself permission to show emotion. I was amazed by your performance, I always am. But, this time, it felt different, just as I was starting to feel different around you. It wasn't anything dramatic; it was small, lingering glances and touches. The dynamic between us had changed so much since high school. This past year we had grown closer, not just because we were roommates. It was because you saved me, literally. You were the one to grab me from the ledge of my despair. I was in your care as soon as I was discharged, but you never made me feel like I was one of your patients or a burden to you. It was probably because you were my best friend and that was what I held onto. You helped me to successfully transition from rehab to reality. You never pushed me and you were my rock of support. A year ago, I never would have pictured this as my future. Yes, I was the one who did all the hard work on myself and you were with me every step of the day. Sitting in the armchair, I listened to the words you were singing and I cannot help but wonder if you were thinking of someone. It sounded a lot like you are.

The lyrics resonated with me, realizing that that was the way I was feeling about you. I closed my eyes and concentrated on you and your voice. As you strummed to last chord, I opened my eyes; you looked directly at me and smiled. I felt like a live wire under your gaze and felt a surge of electricity between us. I brought out of my trance from the applause. I think that it always surprised you when people would clap after your performance. It is validation that what you just did was good, better than good. You handed the guitar back to Adam and the next person got up on stage. Then, you came back down to sit next to me. I could see that you were still shaking from the adrenaline and you were beaming. I grabbed you into a tight embrace, saying, "San, that was just brilliant! Amazing!" Then, I kissed you on the cheek, as I have done a zillion times. Only this time, I felt something. It was then that I knew that something was happening, something like love. It took me a long time to admit my feelings to you. I embarked on that journey to you with that song and that kiss.

I let myself sit and stew in my feelings for quite awhile. Holding feelings was not a foreign concept to me. I was in love with Rachel for years before I ever told her. This love surprised me. I thought that I had lost the capacity of love. I took my time, feeling myself settle into this realization. It brought me comfort, just as you did. I needed this breathing room to fully grasp what I felt for you was real. Falling in love was different with you. With Rachel, it was love at first sight. I immediately felt a pull towards her. With you, it was a gradual understanding, with a 15 year friendship as the base. This time around, I didn't feel shame or thought this love was forbidden and wrong. It felt right. Knowing you as well as I did, it gave me a solid foundation to build my feelings upon. Oh my, how those feelings grew. As the days and weeks past, I knew that I was falling so hard for you. And it didn't scare me and I didn't shy away from it. I embraced these feelings just as you would embrace me, every night before we would go to sleep in our separate bedrooms. I longed to fall asleep in those arms and to wake up next to you in the morning. I wanted to tell you how I felt but I was certain that my nerves would bumble what I wanted to say. So, I didn't tell you I loved you. Instead, I wrote you a love letter and I mailed it to you.

_Dear Santana,_

_You have come to mean more to me than I ever imagined. You have helped me through the most difficult time of my life. When I wanted nothing more then to die, you showed me that it was okay. Okay for me to acknowledge that feeling, while giving me support when I needed it the most. You didn't judge me; you accepted me, this broken, scared shell of a person. You didn't have to be there for me. And you didn't need to save me. Whenever I told you that or thanked you for saving me, you always tell me that I saved myself. You would tell me that, "I was the only one who could save me, no one else." The thing is that if you didn't come barging thru my door, we would never know if it was true. Thankfully, we will never have to know. You never had to do any of it and yet you still did. Your unconditional support was borne out of fidelity and trust. I know it is because you loved me and you cared for me. You helped me see that I was worthy of love and you helped me feel alive again. _

_Santana, you made me realize that my life matters and that I needed to put myself first. You helped change my destructive cycle of guilt and resentment. I finally understood that in order to move forward, I had to begin by accepting the past. I couldn't escape it or erase it anymore. In accepting my past, all the dirty, ugly parts of it, I was able to set myself free. I was no longer a prisoner to that night. You were instrumental in igniting that change within me. This past year, I learned how to be the team captain on my own team. I learned that I am much stronger than I think I am. I learned that I am worthy; I am enough. It is with your support, San, that I have become this version of myself._

_I cannot pinpoint when or how this started- when my feelings towards you changed. I do know the moment I knew I was in love with you. You were singing "Collide" at open mic night, three months ago. I could feel it in the air and hear it in your voice. It was as if a veil was lifted from my eyes and I saw you for the first time. It didn't scare me, this love. I am not scared to tell you that I love you. I am scared of how this will change our relationship. I am scared of ruining this. I know I am taking that risk, by being honest with you with but with great risk comes great reward. If there is anything this past year has taught me, it is to tell the people that matter the most how much you love them. I almost lost that chance and I never want to lose it. So, I am telling you Santana Maribel Lopez, I love you and I am in love with you._

I hand wrote you the letter in the lost art of cursive. As my fountain pen swirled, I could feel the corners of my mouth spread out into a wide smile. I was so happy. I guess I am just a big romantic and I always felt I could best express myself thru the written word. I spritzed the letter with my perfume. I sealed it with a kiss and dropped it in the mailbox, knowing that you would receive this confessional in three days.

You noticed a change in my mood as I waited for you to get the letter. I was excited and bouncy, anticipating you getting my love letter. The day you got the letter, it was a rainy summer afternoon, and you had just finished your daily run. You had the mail in your left hand; my signature stationary peeking thru amongst the US Weekly and bills. You set the mail on the kitchen counter, in need of water. I was sat at the window seat, rapt with anticipation. Drinking the water, you set down the empty water glass and started to rifle thru the mail.

"Hey, I know this stationary. This is from you, Quinn?" you asked me.

I just smiled. I had no words. They were all sealed in the envelope you were holding. I knew that my life was about to change, as you opened it and pulled out the letter. You looked at me, curious at what I could have mailed. Then, you were reading it and I could feel my heart jumping out of my chest. I heard you gasp, so I looked up to find you clutching the letter, standing in front of me.

"Is this true? You love me?"

"Yes, I love you Santana."

I looked into your eyes and I could see it- the love you had for me. Next thing I knew, we were colliding: lips, bodies, hearts, and minds. Feeling your lips on mine felt like coming home. It was a kiss to build a dream on. It felt like this is how it is supposed to be and the world felt right. I could feel the emptiness in my heart filling up with your love. What I didn't know was that you did sing that song for me that Thursday night. It was exactly how you were feeling and singing was the best way for you to show it. You just didn't know how to tell me. You said it was because you weren't sure if I was ready for that. With my letter, I told you that I was ready. I was ready to be in love again. I was ready for you, Santana.

"Quinnie, I am going to go. I changed Harper's diaper and gave her a pacifier. Holden is still asleep." I look at you with sleepy eyes, blinking awake. Since you had grand rounds, you were dressed up, wearing a lavender oxford, charcoal pencil skirt, and your favorite black peep-toe heels, to show off your pedicure. I love it when you looked like this in the mornings. Well, I love you no matter what you you look like, honestly. "Come here," I say, as I drag you down towards me, colliding our lips together one last time. A kiss before you go. Another kiss to build a dream on.


	15. Chapter 17

_**Chapter 3- When She Loved Me **_

_Suggested listening: From the soundtrack of Toy Story 2, Sarah McLachlan's "When She Loved Me"_

"Come on, Quinn, you promised!"

"Rach, honey. Slow down. The ferris wheel isn't going anywhere!"

I hear your laugh, that angelic sound, as you squeeze my hand. You stop short causing me to come to a halt. I start to pout when you surprise me, your lips touching mine. Your kisses are my drug and I can never have enough. I close my eyes and smile into our kiss, as the commotion of the carnival whirls around us. Whenever we are together, we manage to carve out a moment where the rest of the world falls away. It is just you and me, baby; us against the world. I can feel you lean into me and I can feel myself fall deeper in love with you. I cannot believe we have been together for almost two years. I don't remember a time when I wasn't with you, when you weren't my whole word. I knew that you felt the exact same way about me. I knew that you had loved for so long, ever since we were back in McKinley. I always felt like I had to catch up my love for you.

"Baby, everyone is staring at us," you whisper in my ear.

"Let them," I answer, before giving you one more peck, dragging you to my favorite ride. You had a fear of heights, so you always postponed going on the ferris wheel until the very end of the night. I didn't mind. At night, we could watch the fireworks and all the flashing carnival lights perched high in the night sky. You would snuggle into me and I would wrap my arms around your shoulders, to calm your nerves. You would always be okay once you fell into my embrace.

As we got on the ride, I could feel your nervous energy.

"I got you, baby. Come here." I say to you, opening my arms to you.

We spent the rest of the ride in silence, you placing your head upon my shoulder. It is in these tender moments when I feel the gravity of our love. I know, in my heart of hearts, we are meant to be. In past few days, we were talking about our future and our lives after graduation. In a couple of weeks, you would be graduating from Yale, I would be graduating from NYADA, Santana would be graduating from Columbia, and Tina would be graduating from Julliard. After graduation, we were meeting up with Brittany, Mercedes, and Sugar for our great big Canadian adventure. Growing up, we read Anne of Green Gables books and watched the movies. It was our dream to go to Prince Edward Island and we were finally going on our girls vacation. As the ferris wheel reached the apex, I turned to you and kissed your hair, just relishing in the moment. We went a couple more turns and soon enough, the ferris wheel came to a stop.

I held your hand as you exited the ride."Thanks, babe, for going on the wheel with me," I say with a warm smile, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"Is there anything in the world that I can refuse you, Rachel Berry?" you say with a laugh.

"Hmm. Nope!" I say as I let go of your hand and race to the carnival games.

After I spent a small fortune on the milk can knock down, I finally win you a teddy bear. You won me a stuffed penguin in the ring toss. We sit on the grass, sharing kettle corn, watching the people walk by. You try to toss the popcorn in my mouth but miss horribly. We both stop laughing when someone approaches us.

"Hi Quinn!" the man says.

You promptly get up to greet him in a hug. "Hi Lars! Having fun at the carnival?"

"Yeah. But I don't suggest eating the fried Snickers bar. Big mistake," he teases as he looks at me.

"Ohh, Lars, this is my girlfriend, Rachel." you say, holding your hand out to me to pull me up. I stand next to you and shake his hand. I get a weird feeling from him.

"And Quinn, this is my girlfriend, Michele." We exchange pleasantries, before you and him start discussing your Senior thesis project. Since Lars was in his 2nd year in the Art History Ph.D program, he was paired up with you to be your student advisor. I discovered that Michele was a ballet dancer who knew Brittany.

"Okay, Lars, I will see you on Wednesday. Have fun!" you tell him, as they walk away from us.

"So, that is Lars, huh? He isn't at all what I pictured. I don't know, babe. I gives me the heebie jeebies. There is just something about him."

"Do I detect jealousy, Rach?"

"No, it is something else. Watch yourself around him. I don't like him."

"You just met him! He is a good guy. He has been great as my student advisor."

"He just looks at you in a certain way, Quinn. Seriously. Just be careful, k?

You pull me into your arms as you say in my ear, "Yes, baby, I promise. Now, let's go home. I want to make love to my girlfriend."

We made love all weekend long. We barely wore any clothes. It was my favorite way to spend a weekend, wrapped up in you. We went to our favorite brunch spot. You ordered your usual: french toast with crisp bacon, fruit on the side, and french press coffee. I had steel-cut oats with fruit and fresh squeezed orange juice. We shared the Sunday Times, fighting over the Funnies, helping each other with the Crossword puzzle, and reading each other's horoscopes aloud. We took a leisurely stroll around Yale, holding hands and just enjoying each other's company. We cooked our favorite Sunday dinner: spaghetti with my grandmother's marinara, spinach salad, and garlic bread. I opened a bottle of your favorite wine to pair with dinner. You made me my favorite vegan cookies as a treat that I could take back with me to the city. We watched Once Upon a Time and The Good Wife. We fell asleep in each other's arms. I could imagine spending every Sunday for the rest of my life like that. These past two years were the best of my life. It was a peek into a life with you. I wanted to feel this way forever with you.

I was going to propose to you. I already bought you a ring. I went to Tiffany's with Santana. It felt appropriate to get the ring there because we had Breakfast at Tiffany's during our NYC Nationals trip. I had already planned the whole proposal with Santana's help. I was going to recreate our night at Santana's gazebo while on vacation in Prince Edward Island. I wanted to relive that night because that night symbolized our first footsteps toward a life together. You told me that it was where you realized you were in love with me and by loving me, meant you were gay. That night made me let go of our past and embrace our future. It was going to be perfect. Unfortunately, we never made it to PEI. I never got the chance to propose to you. That was the last weekend we would spend in our own little cocoon. When I kissed you good-bye on Monday morning, unbeknownst to me, that was the last time I would see you before your life imploded. Lars raped you during your study session Wednesday night.

"Quinn?" I whisper softly.

I wake up with you on my mind. Another memory remembered in my sleep. I look around to orient myself. I am still in the hospital and I hear the monitor beeping in the background. I can see the empty pull-out cot. I look beside me. Brittany has managed to squeeze herself onto the bed with me. I move over, giving her more room, but she just moves closer towards me. What am I going to do? Here she was, my wife, finally sleeping. I don't think I have ever seen one person cry so much and it was all over me. Brittany loves me that much. All she wants is to be close to me. I just cannot remember her as my wife. As a close friend and confidant, sure! But, in my mind, Brittany is with Santana. Quinn is with me. How can I reconcile my reality when my mind can only remember that as my past. I don't know this Brittany, or this Santana, or this Quinn. I do not see them as married and us as married. I remember all of us at 22, not 42. I am missing twenty years of my life. And that is just the tip of the iceberg. I don't remember our children. I think that that is what hurts the most and believe me, not remembering us is really difficult. Having to meet Barby, Noah, Tristan, and our baby Charlotte, for the first time was heartwrenching. How could I explain to them that I couldn't remember them? Our kids, borne out of our love, was something I had to hold onto because I can't let them down again. Britt, we have them to tie us together. No matter what happens, they will always be my number one priority.

But where does this leave us? What is going to happen? The doctor said he doesn't know if I will ever remember; maybe my memory will never come back. I cannot pick up right where we left off. As if you know that my mind is filling with uncertainty, probably by instinct, you wrap your arms around me and say, "Baby, everything will be okay. We will figure this all out together, I promise." I am left speechless. You knew just what to say. I guess that's what marriage and being together for twenty years teaches you. "Come on, baby, try to get some sleep. You need your rest," you tell me as you look at me with those brilliant blues eyes. Without a second thought, you kiss me, a warm and gentle reminder of how much you love me. It was our first kiss since I woke up. I think that you needed this, after everything you had gone through. You needed to physically feel me this close to you. So, I kissed you back, tentatively at first, trying to gauge your reaction. You moaned and that was all I needed to hear. To me, this was our real first kiss, and I wanted to make it epic. It was easy to let go of those nagging uncertainties when I had your lips on me. God, you are an amazing kisser. When you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue across my bottom lip, I gladly grant you access. I can feel your hand press upon my cheek, guiding me into you. The kisses turn languid and passionate. I can almost feel you testing me, to see if I really can't remember kissing you. I wish that I was wrong, if this is what kissing you feels like. I want to remember every kiss from then to now. I can feel you smile into the last kiss, just holding there, as if to imprint this brand new memory on my fragile mind.

"I want you to never forget this, our first kiss, Rachel. Our second first kiss. We are lucky, babe. We get to redo all of our firsts again. We can make them even better than the last time. And they were all pretty spectacular the first time around," you tell me excitedly as you rest your head upon my chest.

"I will never forget that kiss, Brittany, ever." I respond, as I wrap my arms around you and finally feel sleep calling me.

When I wake up, I see Santana, Quinn, their babies, in my room.

"Baby, are you still going with Barby to California for her spring break?" Quinn asks Santana, as she rocks one of the babies to sleep.

"Well, I promised her. I haven't talked to Brittany about it yet. But I do want to take her, even it is just the two of us. Barby needs to see Stanford and USC so that she can make the best decision. I am sure she will get into every college she applied to. You convinced her to apply to Yale, huh?"

Quinn flashes Santana that dazzling smile that I am so used to seeing. "Yup! You owe me a date since you lost the bet. She finally agreed to apply for art history and French."

"I let you win. I knew she would decide to apply to Yale. I just wanted to win a date with you, gorgeous," Santana teases as she leans in to kiss you.

"You let me win, huh? I always win. You should know that by now, Sanny."

I can see how much they love each other. It is obvious that they are completely in love. Seeing Quinn with being affectionate with someone other than me hurts. I look away, when Santana realizes that I am awake.

"Oh, hey there, Rach. Good morning! Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you," she says, walking towards me.

I cannot talk about what I just saw, so I find an easy distraction. "And who is this, Santana?"

"This is Harper Rachel. She is your goddaughter. That handsome boy over there is Holden Britt. He is your godson. We thought you might like to meet them," Santana says, as Quinn walks up to the other side of the bed.

I look at both of you and your children. You look like a perfect family.

"You named her after me? My godchildren? With each new day, I learn something new. They are beautiful, Santana."

"Yeah, I know. I made them."

"Santana! Jeez, can't you behave. The babies are more behaved than you are," Quinn exclaims.

"Baby, I can't help it. Look at us, we are beautiful, therefore our children have to be beautiful too. It's the law of genetics," Santana says as she hands off Harper to me. "I gave birth to her a month after Quinn gave birth to our boy."

"So, you were both pregnant at the same time? Who's the father?"

"Well, Santana insisted I get pregnant first, so that she could at least deliver one of our children. If she could have delivered Harper, believe me, she would have. They have the same sperm donor, making them half-siblings, since we each used our own eggs. Sam was the donor."

I looked down at Harper, then at Holden, and I could see Sam in each of them. They were precious.

"They very happy and healthy, Quinn. How old are they?" I ask.

"Holden is 10 months and Harper is 9 months. You can already see how much they take after their moms. Harper is fiery and stubborn, just like Santana. Holden is more go-with-the-flow."

"I hate to break it to you, Quinnie, but you are not go-with-the-flow. But, yeah Rachel, we can already see their personalities. They are opposites, like right now. Holden is sleeping, while Harper is wide awake and hungry. They are a handful, but we are loving every minute of it. Let me grab her, Rach. I'm still breastfeeding. Actually, it's probably time for you to pump. You have been pumping every 2-3 hours, right?" Santana asks, as she takes her daughter back.

"Yes, you are right, it is time for me to pump, San. Brittany takes whatever I pump to the NICU and they are freezing it for Charlotte. Is that where she is?" I ask them.

"On Wednesday mornings, she has ballet and contemporary classes at the dance studio. She couldn't miss another week, especially with the holiday show coming up. Britt said she will be here in the afternoon because Mike can cover the hip-hop classes without her."

"And Tristan? Where is he?" I wonder.

"Normally, you would be watching him at home. But, no worries, Brittany just brings him to work. He loves going to the dance studio. Tris follows along and tries to copy whatever she is doing, much like Barby was doing at that age. I swear, you and Brittany know how to raise such talented kids. Well, I am going to go and breastfeed this one. Quinn, you gonna stay here with Rach?"

"Yeah, baby. I'll drop by before I head into work."

Santana kisses her wife with a quick peck before exiting the room. Quinn doesn't look back at me until the door closes.

"Sorry, force of habit. I always watch her as she walks away." Quinn says, blushing.

"I know that this was a lot to take in. Was it too much? It was, I can see it on your face. Britt thought it would be a good thing for you to meet the babies and to see us, as well, us."

I smile to myself. "When did Brittany get so smart? It is a lot, but this is reality. You and Santana are together. You are married. You have a family and a life together. The sooner I realize that, the better."

"Rachel. I know you. You are saying the right things, but I know this has all got to hurt. I am sorry for that. I am sorry that you cannot remember the last twenty years. I am sorry that I am not the Quinn you remember. Right now, I am just somebody that you used to know. But, I am here for you. You were there for me and I am not going anywhere."

"It's just a lot to take in. Seeing you and Santana together and the life you have. It's what I thought I would always have with you. Quinn, I am so confused. I don't know how I am supposed to feel. I mean, right now, I love you. I am in love with you. But, you are not in love with me, you haven't been in forever. And, Brittany, my wife, loves me so much. I feel like every time I think of you or I dream of you, I am breaking her heart. I can't just stop loving you. I can't flip a switch and turn it off. I just..." I say, before I dissolve in tears.

"You've been dreaming of me?" she asks.

All I could do was nod.

Quinn continues, "Rach, you feel the way you feel and there is no right or wrong way. I understand that, we all do. We can't expect you to fall back into the life you used to have when you don't even know what that life was like. All we can do is help acclimate you to your new reality. You just have to give yourself time. You cannot make up twenty years in four days. Each day will get easier and you will make new memories. Please be patient with yourself. I know you think that all this time has just vanished and you cannot afford to waste anymore of it. Just breathe, sweetie," you tell me as you hold my hand.

I know that you are right. I am glad that you don't tell me that my loving you is wrong. Loving you was never wrong. It's just that I am supposed to be in love with Brittany, my wife.

"It will be even better this time, Rachel. You'll see. Just trust me. It will all be okay, I promise you. It is a miracle that you are here and I am here. It is a miracle that Charlotte is here. Let's reframe this. Don't look at it as a negative thing. See it as an opportunity to embrace all the wonderful things and people in your life. You have been given the gift of life. We all came so close to losing you. So, this right now, is you being alive and living. You get the chance to experience your life from a new perspective. Yes, that is scary, but it is also wonderful. And you have us here to support you, all of us. I promise," you tell me.

"Brittany says that I get a redo. I get to do all of these firsts over again. She says that we can make them even better than the last time." I say, wanting to believe my wife.

"She is right. Britts always has a way to see the silver lining in every situation, doesn't she?

I take a moment to ponder that, when Holden moves in your arms. He has yours and Sam's blonde hair.

"So, you are a mom, again? I bet you are an amazing mom. Beth must be an amazing big sister," I say.

"Oh, yeah. Beth loves her baby brother and baby sister. She considers Harper her sister because she doesn't want her to feel left out. She is kinda sorta her stepsister anyway. Beth is doing great. She is a singer./dancer/actress, just like her mom and you. She has been in a couple of musicals. Actually, she told me she would be coming by later, to meet you. You've already seen Shelby, right?"

I answer you, "Yeah, Quinn, yesterday. I hadn't realize how close we had gotten."

"Well, when you were at NYADA, you reached out to her. I think you were missing your dads. She was happy that you wanted her in your life. She wanted you to be a part of Beth's life, as her big sister. Ever since then you have been close. You got even closer when you were cast in Rent. You know that you won a Tony award, right? And you are cast in Funny Girl?"

"So I've been told. I can't believe that is another part of my life I can't remember. My broadway dreams came true."

"Well, we have your performance in Rent and your Tony acceptance speech on DVD, so you can watch it and live it again! I'll tell Beth to bring them by."

"Thanks, Q. I would really like that."

"Well, I have to go to work, Rachel. I'll see you tomorrow? I think you should be discharged soon. At least that was what San said."

"Where do you work?" I ask her.

"I am an art history professor at NYU."

"I am so happy that you finished your Ph.D. After the, well you know. I wasn't sure if you would be able to continue." I say, not meaning to bring up your past.

"Oh no, Rach. I wasn't going to allow my rape to keep me from completing my goals. You were instrumental in helping me accomplish my goal."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"Don't be sorry, Rachel. It is a part of my past. I accepted it along time ago and I have been able to move forward. You were such a big part of that and you were wonderful to me through the whole process. I wish you could remember that."

I just smile. "And yes, Santana told me that I would probably be discharged tomorrow. The doctors just want to run a last set of tests and make sure everything is alright. She said she doesn't foresee anything."

"That is great, Rachel. Well, I have to go get Harper from Santana and drop them off at daycare before my first class of the day. Take care, ok? Think about what I said and be easy on yourself. Beth told me she would be here around 1 o'clock, after she done teaching jazz at the dance studio. Yeah, Rachel. She is a great dancer. Just wait till you hear her sing," you say as you kiss my cheek and head out the door.

Right at 1 o'clock, Beth walks in my door. I had spent the rest of the morning visiting Charlotte. She was doing much better, but she was on a ventilator to help her breathe and on antibiotics. I was sitting by the window when my sister comes and gives me a hug. The last time I remember seeing her, she was in kindergarten. Now, she is a grown woman. I hold on to her tight, as I feel my eyes well up with tears.

"Hey now, big sis. Don't start crying because then I will start crying too. This is happy times, okay?" Beth says.

"I just, I mean, in my mind, you are my precocious baby sister. I have you frozen in your ballerina tutu. How old are you now?"

"I am 23. I went to NYADA, just like you. And I was just cast in Funny Girl with you. The pre-production is on hold for the time being. The plans were for it go on Broadway in the summer, so that gives you plenty of time to recover."

"I am so proud of you, Beth. Gosh, I missed so much of you growing up. I just wish I could..."

"I know you wish you could remember. You were an amazing big sister to me growing up. I idolized you. You are and always will be my big sister. I am so happy that you are okay. " she says as she pulls the other chair up next to mine. "So, how was it meeting Holden and Harper? Seeing Quinn and Santana together?"

"Well, I am just really overwhelmed. I am back, twenty years ago, when I was in love with Quinn and planning a life with her. In that span of time from then to now, I fell in love with Brittany, married her, have four beautiful children, and am a Tony award winning star. Quinn is married to Santana. It is just a lot to take in. And I can't just get over loving Quinn and be in love with Brittany."

"Whoa, easy tiger. Yes, that is a lot to take in. Take it one small piece at a time. If you look at it like that, of course you feel overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed just hearing you say that. Let's talk about Quinn, first."

"I was going to propose to her. I had a ring and everything. But I never did, I never got the chance to, because of the rape. I was preparing for that life to be my future. I never imagined this future. I thought that I would have all of this with Quinn. I knew that she imagined that life with me, too. It is not what I planned for. I have this amazing wife, who I know loves me so much. I just hate hurting her and I wish I could just remember."

"Well, wishing you could remember will only make you frustrated. Let's go under the assumption that you won't get your memory back. You can't keep hoping and wishing for something that probably won't happen. You need to focus on now. As for Quinn, of course your feelings for her won't go away with a snap of your fingers. You were in love and planning a life together. You need to give yourself the permission to feel those feelings and know that it is okay. Once you do that, once you start to deal with your feelings surrounding her, then you will be able to move on. Rach, there is no deadline or timetable for you to do all of this. I know that Brittany is in it for the long haul and she won't pressure you. She knows that it will take time."

I sigh loudly, knowing that she is right, in everything she just said.

"Well, look at my baby sis, all knowing and wise," I exclaim. "Can we change the subject, please? Did you bring those DVDs Quinn asked you bring?"

"Of course, big sis. I'll queue up Rent on my laptop. I never get tired of watching you perform," Beth says as she removes her laptop from her messenger bag.

"You set it up, I just have to go pump real quick for Charlotte," I tell her as I sit on the bed, drawing the curtain and setting up the breast pump.

"I need to get a cup of coffee, sis. You want one?" Beth asks.

"That would be wonderful. Thanks, Beth," I tell her.

"Okay, I will be right back then," she says and she walks out the door.

As I hear the pump start working, I contemplate what Brittany, Quinn, and Beth have told me. They are all right. I need to slow down. All of this will work itself out. I have an amazing life. I need to embrace my present and the only way I can do that is to face my past. I can do this. When I set my mind to something, it always gets done. I smile to myself and my new resolve. I want to live my life and I want to live this life. I just have to take it one step at a time.


End file.
